Seeking Shelter
by Magali1
Summary: Set sixteen years after the episode "The Son." When Tim resurfaces to cause trouble, it isn't just Lyla's life that is upset by it. Meanwhile, Julie tries to run away from problems she's having and surprisingly finds support in Lyla. Tami, Tyra, Matt, Coach, and Buddy all have major appearances. Fairly dark Lyla/Tim, angsty Julie/Matt, and a hopefully in-character Tami.
1. The Calm Before the Storm

**A/N:**So this fic is probably the most AU I've gone with the actual canon storyline of FNL. I wasn't going to post it, but eh, figured what was the harm? It came from a convo I was having with a friend (who had just watched the series finale) and she offhandedly said where she thought Lyla had gone (even though we both knew it was because they couldn't get Minka Kelly back for the finale). Soo...I decided to go with it in fic form and I'm adding Julie as a POV character, who I never, ever write, if only for a bit of branching out into other characters. It's also going to get kind of dark, so fair warning. Enjoy :) Don't throw too many stones! (FYI- Julie and Tami as well, appear in chapter 3).

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**Chapter 1: The Calm Before the Storm**

"So what are we going to do tonight?"

"Take over the world?"

Lyla chuckled; her arm looped through her daughter's, both of them walking, more like tottering, along the sidewalk in Eastsound, Washington. She leaned her shoulder against her daughter, pointing to a store window. "Come on, let's get coffee or hot chocolate or something, I can't feel my feet." It had been misting for a few hours, coupled with the chill, and she was numb.

Her sixteen-year old giggled, knocking her shoulder into hers again as they both went for the door at the same time. "Mom come on, we don't need coffee and hot chocolate, what we need is food. I'm starving!"

"Crab's," they both said at the same time, stumbling by the coffee shop, run by Lyla's sister, and hurried across the street towards their favorite restaurant, which in Lyla's opinion served the best seafood in Washington. Too bad it wasn't crab season, she thought, walking into the small diner, known as 'Crab's.' "Hey Joe," she said, greeting the owner, an old, crotchety former crab fisherman, who gave up on going out on the crab boats to run the diner. He was always nice to her, so she didn't complain about his poor attitude. Much. "Two chowders please."

"You don't want to let your daughter order?" Joe grunted, wiping down the bar. One of the waiters, a guy that she knew was in her daughter's class, came over, smiling at her and set down two waters for them at the bar. He rolled his eyes at her eyebrow raise. "Whatever. Coming up."

Thank you. We don't need to discuss what we want; she knew her daughter better than she knew herself most days. "So let's talk about that boy that just gave you the up-down," she said, turning her straw around in her glass, smiling at her daughter's sudden flushed cheeks. "Come on Scout, tell me!"

"Mom you're so embarrassing."

"Then I'm doing my job right."

Her beautiful daughter tossed her hair over her shoulder, smirking at her. It was too familiar a look, that used to make her stomach flip slightly, but now it just was a slight twinge of recognition. Scout was her own person. Always had been, since the moment she'd decided to come three weeks early during final exam time. Her name was a testament to the paper that she'd been in the midst of finishing, comparing and contrasting themes in '_To Kill a Mockingbird_' with '_A Lesson Before Dying._' She'd rushed to the hospital with barely a minute to spare. She arched a slim dark eyebrow, her emerald eyes flashing with the challenge. "I don't get to tell you, unless you tell me something. You know the deal Mom."

I never should have read that in a parenting magazine when you were four, she thought, twirling her straw around in her glass. She bit her lower lip, trying to think of what she could spill. Secret for a secret, that was the deal. "Okay," she decided, folding her hands on the bar. She smiled again, her lips pursing. Her eyes closed. "I once ran around my neighborhood naked. Your turn."

"Oh my God! You can't say something like that without telling me," Scout laughed, leaning forward on the stool. She wiggled her eyebrows. "So what was the bet you lost?"

"It wasn't a bet." Yes, it was a bet. She'd been drunk, so, so drunk, and it was a bet from one of her sorority sisters. "You were living with Grandma at the time. I was still in Nashville, and one of my sorority sisters bet me that I didn't have the guts. I'd kind of been drinking, so again, you know, the perils of underage drinking right there, you do stupid, stupid things. I did it, I woke up the next morning regretting it like crazy and that is why, my daughter, if you ever do anything like that, I will kill you." She wiggled her fingers and nodded towards the cute guy standing by the door to the kitchen. "So who is that?"

Scout rolled her eyes again; it was too common an occurrence with the teenager that Lyla was trying to find a way to quip about how they would get stuck in her head or something if she kept it up. It was getting old. "Just…a guy in my class," she whispered, looking over her shoulder at the guy again. She swallowed her sip of water, pulling the straw back up to her lips, continuing to mumble. "His name is Wes. He's…he's nice. We're in English together."

Since Scout was in an honors English program, that was good news. He wasn't a dropout in the making. "So he's in school with you? And he works?" She looked over her shoulder again, nodding slightly. Two checks in the 'for' column. "That's cool. Does he play sports?"

"Football, but you know how it is." Yeah, I do, she thought, slightly relieved that the football culture in the San Juan Islands wasn't near what it was in other areas of the world. Namely her area of the world. Scout pulled her long dark hair back from her face, tying it into a messy knot on top of her head. "So after dinner do you want to go walk to the beach or something?"

"I think we should head home. It is Friday, so you know we have to call your grandfather."

"Is Aunt Tabby spending the night again?"

Her sister had been going through some financial difficulties and was living in the rooms above her coffee shop, but last Lyla knew she'd rented that out to make some extra cash and was crashing with friends and with her, when she felt like it. "She's staying with some friends this weekend, they're going to Vancouver, I think." She leaned back a little when Wes came over, setting their bowls of clam chowder down in front of them. She smiled politely at him, taking in his appearance. Hair a little long over the collar, a slight dirty blonde. Blue eyes. He seemed well enough, she thought, but she wasn't sure about this. Scout had never been interested in guys before. This was…interesting.

In a weird way, that was the only place where they didn't see eye-to-eye or where Scout wouldn't really open up to her. The mumbling got even worse if she prolonged the questions, until she shut down completely. Or changed the subject. Or started deflecting, usually by throwing out mean comments to get her angry at her for something and forget. Lyla tossed her hair over her shoulder, reaching for the pepper. She glanced out of the corner of her eye as Scout began to rearrange her plate.

The bowl went to one side, the crackers to the other, and she took the small cup of shrimp, to add on top, and set it aside. She then began to add everything, little by little, and finally began to eat. Lyla smiled a little, glancing away. Some things that were genetic astounded her. Including plate rearranging. She took a deep breath, sprinkling pepper on her soup and picked up her spoon. They'd talk about Wes later, she imagined.

After dinner, they left the diner, walking back down the street towards their house, which was within walking distance away. Orcas Island was probably one of the most beautiful places she'd visited in the United States. She knew that when she'd visited her sister a few years ago, who had relocated after she finished business school in Berkeley, she was going to stay. It was perfect. The most perfect place to raise her daughter. So once Scout had finished elementary school in Nashville, Lyla packed them up and moved them to the San Juan Islands.

She stopped at the market, pausing to survey some of the fruit that was set out. "I think I'll make cherry muffins for tomorrow," she decided. She was meeting with her editor, who was flying out to meet with her about her newest book. It would be a nice "welcome back to Washington" gift for her. "Help me pick some of these."

Scout picked up a bag of cherries, picking some good ones and putting them in, as well as removing some of the ones with blemishes. "So when are you going back to Seattle for the book stuff?"

"Next week, Monday. I'll be there for a few days, so you'll be on your own, but Tabby will be around." She looked up when she saw a truck turn the corner at the end of the road, its lights flashing in her eyes, semi-blinding her in the dying sunlight. "Whoa. Whoever that is needs to turn it down."

"Cool truck."

"Yeah," she said, frowning slightly. It was a big black truck. Newer model. A little loud and flashy for Eastsound, where just about every single person knew each other. She shook her head, passing two bags of cherries to Scout. "Take those inside." She was about to pull out her wallet to get some cash out, to just send Scout to pay for them, but she stopped when Scout's eyes widened, her arms loosening a little on the sacks of cherries. "Scout."

"That truck," she whispered. She shook her head, when the truck parked across the street. Scout hopped off the sidewalk. "It's familiar."

It was kind of…oh shit. She stared, forgetting the cherries, dropping them back onto the stand, ignoring it as a few fell off onto the ground. No, she thought, shaking her head and taking a step back, her tongue running over her teeth, putting together her reaction. That truck had Texas plates. It was only one person. No, she thought again, closing her eyes briefly.

Then she heard it. Scout's happy scream and the loud "Daddy!" Then she was gone, her feet pounding on the pavement, splashing up puddles of water as she ran.

"Scout!"

And it was him, she thought, opening her eyes, seeing the confirmation in Scout hugging him tightly, her feet off the ground as he spun her around in a couple of circles, setting her to her feet again. She shook her head, smiling at seeing her daughter so happy, but…damnit, she thought, her stomach flipping as she walked slowly towards him, her hands going into her pockets, and stopping, her eyes soft on his. "Tim," she sighed. What the hell are you doing here?

Tim Riggins grinned at her, an arm around his daughter. "What's up Lyla?" He narrowed his eyes, slightly darker, and their daughter oblivious to the tension already tight between them. He smirked; the same as Scout's, only this time she felt her heart start beating faster. "You miss me?"

As it had been five years, so no, she thought, shaking her head and shrugging. She didn't miss him so much as dread him. Her heart was pounding agaisnt her ribcage. He didn't call her Garrity. That was a new development. She swallowed. Her throat was drying. Damnit. "What are you doing here?"

"Scout why don't you go get your present, it's in the truck."

"A present!?" The normally bright and mature sixteen-year old devolved into a child when she was around him. In some ways she really was. A psychologist could have a field day with it. She squealed, giddy, and took off to the truck., practically diving through the front seat into the back.

Lyla looked back at him, but before she had a chance to say anything, he was grabbing her, kissing her hard. No! She screamed inwardly, grabbing his shoulders and forcing him back, as hard as it was for her to do. As much as she didn't really want to do that. "I should hit you," she said, growling at him. She smacked his hand away when he tried to take her face into it. No. We don't do this anymore. Not with Scout around. Never with Scout around. "Don't ever do that again."

He didn't care; he just smiled again, even darker now that Scout wasn't in earshot. The kiss wasn't a happy to see you kiss. It was a 'I have power over you and I know it' kiss. "I'm not leaving," he whispered. He tweaked her nose and she smacked his hand, glaring. I will chop it off the next time, she vowed. Tim cocked his head, his hands going to his hips. "You want to know what I'm doing here?" he bit out. He smiled again, tighter and meaner. She hated it when he got that look. It scared her sometimes.

"It's a question, yes." Seeing as it had been five years since you bothered to see us, not that I want you around. If she had her way he'd be gone. Gone forever, the way she intended it to be, before she'd been guilted into letting him in on the secret. Letting everyone in on the secret, she supposed.

He stepped backwards, looking down his nose at her, before he smiled fast again. "I'm taking my daughter," he said. He arched his eyebrow. Like it was supposed to mean something, she thought, frowning a little. Taking her? Taking her where? He reached over and gripped the back of her head, turning her up and dropping a kiss to her lips, but she refused to move or acknowledge it. I'm going to hurt you, she thought again, her hand going to his wrist and digging her nails into the back of his hand, forcing him to release his hold on her. His voice dropped to a soft hiss. "I'm taking her back to Texas."

And then he let go of her and turned, sauntering to the truck like he hadn't just sent her world upside down.

* * *

"Hey Dad, I got you another blanket, it gets cold, especially in the winter." Scout dropped another blanket on the end of the guest bedroom bed, smiling wide. "You know this is a twin and you can have my bed. I'll sleep here, I've got a double, so you know, you might have more room."

He'll be fine, Lyla thought, sitting on the bottom step of the small staircase leading from the second floor to the third floor, where her bedroom was at the top of the house. She narrowed her eyes at him, standing in the guest room, leaning against the post on the twin bed. "You know he'll be fine," she said, when Scout tried to get another blanket out of the closet. She stood up from the bottom step, walking over to lean against the frame, scowling at him. "He should be sleeping in a hotel. Or maybe even in his truck. Or on the street."

It wasn't fair to Scout that she was being mean to him, but after he'd dropped that bombshell on her in the street, Scout had run back over, tugging him to the truck, and saying he was going to spend the night at the house and for however long he wanted. Is that okay Mom, she'd practically begged, putting on the puppy dog eyes that got her whatever she wanted.

I'm locking my door is all, Lyla thought, still staring at him. "How long do you plan on staying?" she asked. She wasn't interested in him destroying her life for very long. He probably wasn't even serious. Tim could be mean when he wanted to be mean, but he wasn't cruel. He'd never been cruel.

"Because you can stay as long as you want to stay," Scout blurted out. She reached over and gave him a hug, her hands looping together around his waist, looking up and her and waiting expectedly. "Right Mom? He can stay as long as he wants, right?"

"You have school, so he's not staying forever," she said. She glanced at him again, waiting for a response. One week, she figured. That's as long as he'd be able to stay away from Texas. One week of being a daddy and he'd go running back to his life of solitude.

He smiled at her, lowering his head to rest against the top of Scout's. "I'll stay as long as I need to stay."

"What about the business?" Scout asked, looking up at him again.

"Billy's got it for now."

She snorted. "Are you going to have one left? Doesn't sound very responsible, Tim."

"Don't knock Billy," he said, his voice cool again. He narrowed his eyes at her. "He's not that much of a screwup anymore." Yeah, that much, she thought, rolling her eyes again.

"Your life Tim." You make that mistake nonstop. Trust Billy, just for Billy to fail miserably. He'd never learn until he had some repercussions and he'd never get those, because you keep saving him from them. She shook her head, turning away. It was too hard, especially because Scout loved him so desperately. "I'm going to bed, I have to work."

"Mom's finishing up her newest book," Scout she said, smiling wide and turning her head back to her. "And since she was a physical therapist before she hit it off with the books, she also volunteers at the water mammal rescue facility, she uses the animals and the water to help kids with injuries. She's the local celebrity, so it's cool."

Thanks sweetheart, but he could care less. Sure enough, Tim was nodding along, but he wasn't thinking about anything Scout was saying. She shook her head at him; you bastard. You're going to break her heart. Just shatter it. "I'm going to bed," she murmured again, turning away and walking up the stairs to her room. She held the door open for Scout's dog, Artemis, to jump off of her bed and skitter down the stairs. The golden retriever was a pretty penny, but hell, she couldn't deny Scout what she wanted.

Especially during those early days, she thought, closing the door behind her and walking across the room to the window, which looked out over the tops of the trees to the sound. This was her calm, she thought, stepping over to push open the balcony door. She leaned on the balcony railing, letting the cool wind blow over her face.

It took a moment to realize that the chill she was beginning to feel on her cheeks was the wind freezing her tears. She wiped at them, sniffing and taking a few shallow breaths. She turned around, freezing when she saw him closing the door behind her. "Get out," she hissed, closing the balcony door and flicking the lock. She walked across her room again, jerking open her dresser and throwing some pajamas onto her bed, just as he grabbed her around her waist, lifting her up against the wall.

I hate you, she thought, kissing him like her life depended on it, her hands gripping the back of his head. She bit his bottom lip hard, feeling him release her slightly; gasping at what she hoped was pain. She poured everything she could into her final kiss, before she fell backwards onto her feet and then hauled her hand back and smacked him.

That felt good she thought, drawing her hand back again, ignoring the vibrating pain going through her wrist, she'd hit him so hard. Only she didn't get a chance; Tim grabbed her hand before she could go again, his fingers curling around her wrist as he held up his other hand. "One," he whispered. He no longer had that nasty look on his face. In fact, he seemed resigned to it. "You get one."

That's crap. "I get sixteen years of them," she whispered. She jerked her hand away from his, glaring. She pointed at him again. "That's your last one. Forever Tim. I'm not sixteen anymore, you can't just kiss me and expect me to fall into bed because I feel bad at the time."

"I'm not expecting you to do that," he said. He nodded to the door, whispering. "Sound carries here. If I remember."

You probably do remember, she thought. The last time he was here was six years ago. She'd forgotten that her sister was also staying with her at the time and both of them had…been loud. She shook her head, her eyes not breaking from his. "We are not doing that Tim. That's high school. That's…" It was dark, bringing this up, but she smiled a little, her eyes flashing. "That's me pitying you for a weekend from college." He cocked his head, frowning. "It doesn't even make us feel good anymore, we always hate each other more after. What are you even doing here?"

"I told you," he said. He turned around, walking back to the door. He stopped in front of her other dresser, picking up a picture. He sighed, setting it down. It was one of her and Scout when Scout was two. He wasn't in their lives then. "You know, you didn't tell me about my daughter until she was three," he whispered. He turned around again, glaring at her. "You didn't even tell your father he had a grandkid. You don't get to keep her from me anymore."

"What are you going to do?" she laughed. My mistakes of the past are my mistakes. No one else's. I can't go back and change that. Neither can you Tim. There are reasons I kept her from you. She crossed her arms over her chest, sighing sadly. "Tim you're not going to court. You can't afford it." Even if you could, that's not who you are.

He frowned, his voice quiet. "It's not about money, Lyla."

"You go to court and I will bury you." Again, it was mean. She shook her head again, whispering. "I know too much and I have too much. I'd win. I'd bury you."

Tim turned, leaning against the door. He smiled slightly. "I don't think that's true Lyla. I don't think you would do that."

"Do you want to try me?"

"Oh you'd do it to me," he said, continuing to smile. She hated how blasé he was about this. It wasn't funny. "I know you'd bury me. You'd make sure I never breathed again if you could, but you wouldn't do that to Scout."

You got me there. I don't want to hurt her, but you know what Tim? "Neither do you," she whispered. She smiled. That's what was hanging up this whole thing with them. They loved their daughter. She walked over to the door, reaching around him to unlock it and pull it open. Knowing Scout, she was eavesdropping on this entire thing from her room right beside the bottom of the staircase. "Good night Tim."

He waited a moment, his eyes lifting from her lips. "I'm sorry I was…" He sighed, shaking his head and rolling his eyes. "Forget it." I'm sorry, what? What could you be sorry for, she thought. What could you be sorry for, she continued, adding to her thought, that could be said in one sentence? There was so much to be sorry for. She waited for him to walk away, disappearing down the stairs before she closed the door. Her hand stilled on the lock and she took a deep breath, turning it with a loud click.

Lyla walked away from the door, picking up her phone and sinking backwards onto the pile of pillows around her picture window, looking out in another direction towards the ocean. She held the phone to her ear, waiting; it was late in Texas, but she didn't care. She frowned when she heard the voice pick up, immediately speaking, not even giving her father a chance to talk. "Why didn't you tell me that Tim was coming to see us?"

"Lyla?"

"Yes, it's Lyla and you know it's Lyla, Daddy, now please answer me, why didn't you tell me that Tim was coming to see us?" She kept speaking, over his protests that he didn't know Riggins was going to see her, he just thought he was going on a road trip. "Because Scout thinks he's going to stay forever, Tim says he's here to take my daughter from me, and I want to know why you didn't think to tell me. Or even give me a little warning!"

Buddy groaned; she could imagine him getting out of his chair, which he'd likely fallen asleep in, and stumbling to his room. "Lyla, baby, what are you talking about? What's Tim doing? Says he wants to take Mary?"

Her father refused to call Scout by her name, choosing her legal first name over the name that she'd begun calling her after she'd left the hospital. Scout suited her daughter more than the feminine name she'd chosen; once she'd found out she was having a girl. Mary Evangeline. She'd been reading the poem when she felt the first kick, taking it as a sign. "Scout," she said, stressing the name. "Is going to be devastated when he leaves. She is going to be devastated when she finds out that he's trying to take her away. She is going to be devastated, Daddy."

"No more than I was when I found out you'd kept her from me, Lyla Mary."

Oh damn, the middle name, scary, she thought sarcastically. She rolled her eyes, whispering. "Daddy I can't go back in time. I didn't tell you because I didn't know how to tell him and I knew you couldn't keep it quiet."

"You told me that she was your mother's kid."

That was the story, yes, she thought, closing her eyes tight. "Daddy, please. I can't do this. I'm sorry, how many times do I have to say it?" It had been fourteen years. Fourteen years since he found out, when she'd sat him down and told him. He hadn't spoken to her for months. She hadn't spoken to him, not after some of the things he'd said.

They'd still been barely getting back into their lives together. She'd done it for her daughter's sake. Buddy hadn't been a terrible father…he just hadn't been entirely all there sometimes, too consumed in his problems to realize that his children might have been affected by them. But he loved them. So she did it for him. "Lyla," he sighed. "Lyla I don't know what you want me to say. Tim told me he was going to go surprise you guys. I didn't know he was going to…what'd you say?"

"Take Scout."

"He's bluffing, he won't take her."

I don't know. Tim Riggins had changed significantly. He wouldn't…wouldn't do it to hurt her. He'd try to convince her though. He'd make his case. He seemed pretty serious about this. Why would he drive all the way to practically Canada just to make his point if he wasn't going to follow through? "Daddy he's in Washington now," she murmured. With no end date in sight. She rubbed at her forehead, tears pricking the corners of her eyes. "I was stupid Daddy. I'm sorry, I can't say that enough, but…but do you think…" She bit her bottom lip, turning her head to the window, her fingertips touching the cool pane, watching as drops of rain made their way down to the sill. It was hindsight. It didn't matter, but it was the one thing she knew had sort of swung her father back to her side on her decisions when she was younger.

"I know," Buddy said, quiet. He sighed again. "He wouldn't have been able to handle it."

"He'd have gone insane. He'd have hurt someone. Or himself." She'd found out she was pregnant and when she called to talk to her father about it, that's when she'd learned that her baby's father had walked into jail. It took her months before she decided she just wouldn't tell him. Her father had been in a state himself. It wouldn't work. He couldn't know either. No one could know in Dillon. So she kept it quiet. Only her mother knew, and her sister. Not even until she was several months along too.

I was alone; I was always very good at taking care of myself, she thought. She covered her flat stomach with her hand. "Daddy if he'd found out while he was sitting in that jail cell, I don't think that Scout would have a father right now. He's come a long way. I just don't trust it yet. He's going to hurt her and if you had anything to do with him coming up here Daddy I swear…" She closed her eyes again, her voice trailing off. "I will end our relationship and I don't want to do that."

Buddy was silent. A few seconds later, his voice was even and she could tell that he wasn't lying. He was telling the truth. "I didn't know he was going up there Lyla. Not like that. I thought it was a visit. Thought it might be nice if you…" he sighed. "Lyla it'd be nice if my granddaughter had two parents."

"We don't love each other," she said. We have power over each other in different ways and we use that power when we feel like it. We're drugs for each other. That doesn't mean we love each other. It's toxic. She shook her head again, breathing. "That's not good for Scout to grow up with."

He chuckled. "Yeah, sure."

"I'm serious Daddy. You and Mom had this perfect life until it wasn't perfect anymore. Then you guys used us, you fought in front of us, and you manipulated each other using us for the better part of two years." It was miserable. It wasn't fair to the them. She'd seen people divorce, she'd seen how they could be mature about it for their children, to do anything not to hurt them. Her parents didn't take that road. "And I don't plan on doing that to my daughter." She waited a few seconds for his response, but received none. "Daddy I'm…" She closed her eyes, rubbing at her forehead. I need to go to sleep. "I'm going to bed, but this isn't good if you had anything to do with it."

"I didn't, Lyla, but you know whose side I'm on baby. I'm sorry for it too."

You'd choose him over your own daughter, she thought, shaking her head. She closed her eyes even tighter. "He's her father, but you know how I wanted it Daddy. Sometimes I wonder why I even bothered to tell." Maybe because I couldn't keep living like my daughter's father was some anonymous donor. I was 19 and in my first year of college. I wasn't dropping out, I wasn't doing anything like that.

They sat in silence again; she could hear him breathing, waiting on her to say something. Make the next move. Lyla chuckled. "Daddy this isn't going to end well. He's going to hurt her."

"And he's going to hurt you, but then again you already know that."

I sometimes feed on it. "Good night Daddy."

"Good night Lyla." He didn't call her by her pet names much anymore. They didn't really even say they loved each other. It was all a giant mess, she thought, disconnecting. She leaned against the window again, watching the rain. Maybe that's why I came out here, she thought, taking in the green and the ocean. It was the exact opposite from Dillon. It was secluded. No one could find her here. She had plans, but life derailed those plans.

I have regrets, she thought, staring out the window. There were lots of regrets for that period of her life. She climbed off the seat, walking to the door and opening it, going downstairs to the second floor. The guest bedroom door was shut. Good. She bypassed it, going to lean against the open door of Scout's room, where her daughter was already asleep. She watched her for a few minutes, smiling. She always slept the same way, her arms flung over her head, like a baby.

Because she was a masochist, she turned around, went to the guest room, and cracked the door open. Not a surprise was how she found him sleeping, with his arms flung over his head in the same manner. Genetics, she thought, shaking her head. I hate them. She closed the door, returned to her room, and opened up a bottle of Advil PM. To help her sleep and stave off the growing headache, she swallowed three, and crawled into bed, not bothering to change out of her clothes.


	2. Mist

**A/N:**Lots of the questions that kind of are brought up in the first chapter and in this one will get answered throughout the fic :) I'm going to have flashbacks too. Thanks for the reviews and enjoy :)

* * *

**Chapter 2: Mist**

Ugh. Why did I take those pills? She felt groggy. Fuzzy. I need to be able to think. Lyla rubbed at her forehead, sitting up and moving her hands to scrub at her face. She licked her lips, which were cracked and dry, glancing sideways at the sight of Artemis sitting in her bed. Which was weird considering she'd shut and locked the door. What are you doing here, she wondered, her hand stretching over to rub at the golden retriever's soft head. Artemis licked her hand once before setting her head on her paws, rolling her eyes up and then glancing towards the bathroom.

She frowned. Someone was in there, the door was cracked and the light was streaming out. And now she could hear the shower running. She climbed out of the bed, walking into her bathroom, where she stopped, looking down at the pile of clothes on the floor. Unless Scout had taken to wearing cowboy boots, it wasn't her in there. Son of a bitch, she thought, weighing her options.

I know, she thought; without bothering to pull back the curtain, she reached her hand behind it and turned the hot water off. Shouldn't take long now, she thought, smiling slightly. Evilly. Three…two…one…

"SHIT!"

Now she ripped back the curtain, as Tim stumbled backwards into the tiled walls, grabbing the curtain from her to cover up. "What are you shy now?" she demanded, grinning at him. He scowled at her, his hair sticking up with shampoo. "The hell are you doing in here?"

"Our daughter is taking forever in the other bathroom."

I hate it when you refer to her as our daughter. She's mine, she thought possessively. She pushed the curtain against his chest, scowling angrily. "Get out of my bathroom. Get out of my room. Get out of my house. In that order."

"You want to turn the hot water on, maybe jump in with me?" he asked, smiling cheekily. He wiggled his eyebrows. "Could be like old times. Just once Garrity. Like always, you know you won't be able to say no."

"Go to hell." She grinned, glancing down and then back up again. He tugged the curtain tighter around him, his eyes narrowing at her. "And that cold water thing is really true."

"Hey! Not fair! You put the freaking cold water on full blast!"

Get them where it hurts, she thought, letting go of the curtain and walking out, slamming the door behind her. She changed quickly out of her clothes from yesterday, going downstairs in a pair of workout pants and a hooded Vanderbilt sweatshirt. She padded barefoot into the kitchen, shivering. "Why is the back door open?" she asked, closing it.

Scout shrugged. "Artemis went outside, I forgot to close it."

Well let's close it from now on, Lyla thought. She glanced over her shoulder at Scout, who was pouring herself a cup of coffee. "Hey, knock it off with that, you're sixteen."

"And I have a pre-calc test today. I need sustenance."

Lyla reached into the pantry and removed a protein bar, tossing it in her direction. "Then eat this." She took the coffee from her before Scout could sip, ignoring the dirty look she got in return. "You can have this when you're not still growing."

Scout shrugged, unwrapping the protein bar and taking a bite. "So um, you're not mad are you?"

Mad? She frowned, turning around after doctoring up her coffee. "Mad?" she echoed. She sat down at the worn kitchen table in the corner, across from Scout. She crossed her legs and leaned back into one of the four mismatched chairs. "Why would I be mad, baby?"

Scout shrugged again. She picked at the power bar, taking another bite. She chewed, swallowed, and answered, her voice quiet. "Because you…well I know that you and Dad don't really get along and…and I was just so happy to see him." Her eyes lifted up from the table. "He's never here Mom and he came here. He left Texas, he's never done that. I mean…this is a big thing and…and I want him to not going away again. Please." She was almost begging now. "Please, I don't want him to leave. Not yet."

Oh God. I'm so sorry. Sometimes she tended to forget that Scout…well Scout had this idealized version of Tim that he lived up to most of the time. She ignored the faults, which Tim usually didn't let her see. She loved him. He was her father, she loved him, and he wasn't in her life. Of course she'd want him to stay as long as possible. Sometimes I forget. Lyla leaned forward, taking Scout's hands and squeezing tight. "Okay," she whispered. For you. I'll do it for you. She smiled comfortingly, squeezing her fingers harder; they were cold. She briskly rubbed them together, smiling again, her eyes crinkling up. "Okay. He can stay."

"Promise you won't push him away," Scout whispered. She swallowed nervously, her forehead wrinkling. It seemed odd, on a teenager, to have such worry show on her face. Then again, Scout wasn't an ordinary teenager. She hadn't lived a very ordinary life. "Please Mom. I know what happened the last time."

No, you didn't know what happened the last time. Only Tim and I know what happened the last time. Five years ago. She shook her head again, patting Scout's hand. "Let's not talk about this now. You need to clean up for school, go brush your teeth. I'll drop you off before I pick up Julie at the ferry."

"Julie?"

"Yeah, Julie Saracen, she's been assigned to my new book." Her old editor had moved on to nonfiction. To her surprise, she'd seen that Julie Taylor, now Julie Saracen, was a junior editor at her publisher's office. She didn't get the big books, but she'd requested that she edit her newest book and since the publishing company wanted to please one of their big profit-makers, they'd allowed it.

It wasn't like she was a name in fiction. It was just, she had a couple books under her belt and they'd sold relatively decent. Once she got in the door, of course. It took her about five years just to get in the door. Now the company was putting more stock into her. She looked up at the stairs as Tim came down them, bypassing Scout. "What are you doing today?" he asked.

"None of your business." She sipped her coffee, walking over to the front door. She opened it up and picked up her paper, turning and closing it behind her. He was leaning against the entryway. "What?" she demanded. "Get out of my way."

"We need to talk."

"No, we don't. Not right now." This was going to be fairly interesting; with Julie Saracen visiting her at the same time that Baby Daddy was in town. She'd taken to thinking of him as an anonymous person; it made it easier, especially when Scout starting showing some of her more…Riggins tendencies, she supposed.

God help me when she starts drinking, she thought, stepping around him and into her study. It was on the back end of the house, surrounded by windows and doors that opened out to the forest. In the summertime it was incredibly exhilarating, just sitting and inhaling the salty air. Then in the winter, she got a good view of some of the storms that came their way, but because the islands were cocooned in the sound, they didn't hit as bad as they did other portions of the Washington coast.

It was inspiring to sit and write, which she'd taken to doing to cope with her sudden motherhood at nineteen, along with some of her decisions she'd made during and after her pregnancy. Then she'd had a boyfriend who'd glanced at her journal, the one she'd written when she'd been pregnant, and told her she should seriously consider turning it into a book, and off she went. It was freeing, in some ways.

She sat down at her desk, a battered old teacher-style desk she'd found at a flea market in Vancouver and had shipped. "Go away," she said, sensing him behind her. She opened up the top of her laptop, glaring at him in the reflective screen. "Go away Tim, how many times do I have to say it?"

"I'm bored."

"That's your fault. You shouldn't have come here."

"Hey Mom can you take me to school now?"

She turned in her chair, just as Tim jumped up from the picture window he'd barely sat down in. "I'll do it," he said. He smiled. "Let's get going Scout." He glanced at her, scowling. "Why did you start calling her Scout anyway? I like the name Mary. I'm going to call you it from now on."

"But I hate that name."

"It's a nice name," she and Tim said at the same time. They both glared at each other. She scowled, turning her head back to Scout, who was frowning at them. "It's a nice name Scout, it's just not what I started calling you when you were a baby."

Scout frowned. "Why? Now I'm curious."

Oh come on, just go to school, Lyla thought, turning around and shooting a glare at Tim. This had never been an issue before. She smiled patiently. "My favorite book was _To Kill A Mockingbird. _I sometimes think of things as signs and my water broke when I was writing an essay on it for my English class. I called you Mary for awhile and started calling you Scout. You reminded me of her. Strong, smart…even if you were a baby." It was just a name, she thought. Something unique. She shrugged again. "I started calling you it when you were a baby, probably around a toddler, I think."

"I wouldn't know," Tim said. He smiled again, looking at her, his eyes darkening. "I wasn't there." Come on, she thought, frowning at him. That's not fair.

Scout frowned a little. "Guys." It was a soft little plea, so they both closed their mouths. She nodded curtly. "Thank you." She tugged the strap a little farther up on her shoulder of her large messenger bag, which was currently resting against her hip. "Come on Dad, we're going to be late."

Lyla turned back around after logging into her computer, leaning on the back of her chair. She frowned, studying the two of them. Side by side…she could see the similarities were startling. Scout had Tim's cheekbones, his eyes, and his smile. Her hair was practically black, which was her contribution, but…they even held themselves similarly. Slightly lazy, but rocking on their heels, like they were preparing for whatever you were going to give them. "Have fun at school," she said, getting up from her chair to give her a quick hug. "I'll see you later."

"Is Julie going to stay with us?"

"I think she's at a hotel in town for the night, she'll be here a couple of days reviewing the draft."

"What's this book about?" Tim asked, picking up his coat. He slipped it on, his voice quiet as Scout got her coat. "This one going to be about me too?"

"How would you know, it's not like you read," she retorted, out of earshot of Scout. They may have told her they'd be fine, but she didn't think she'd be able to contain herself in private. She poked him in the chest, smirking. "Oh I forgot, you choose not to read. So you chose to read my book? Thought I didn't matter to you."

"You don't," he replied. It was so casual, so off-hand that she felt like he slapped her. He smiled again, cocking his head. "You think I pined for you? There's been a lot of girls Garrity. You were just the one that got knocked up."

Ouch. There was a lot she could say to that. It hurt. It really hurt; she also wondered if he even knew how he'd said it. He didn't seem to realize. She released a breath through her nose, her nostrils flaring. She ran her tongue over her teeth, lifting her eyebrows, and whispering. "And you want to say that to Scout? Go ahead. Tell her."

"I love her," he said, defensive.

You have a funny way of showing it sometimes Tim. "I've never asked for anything from you," she murmured.

He smiled again. "No you just kept her secret." He lifted his eyebrows. "Not cool."

"It's been sixteen years." You're going to hold that against me my entire life. She shook her head. "Take her to school. Then stay away. I don't want you in this house."

"My pleasure Lyla." Ly-La. Pretty snotty way to say my name, she thought, scowling as he walked away from her, smiling at something Scout said, the two of them laughing and walking out, closing the door behind them. She leaned against the front window, peeking through the curtains, and watching the truck rumble down her street. She didn't have many neighbors, but she knew that she'd be the talk of the town. It was so damn small. Lyla Garrity's baby daddy is in town, look at him, I heard he's the inspiration for that guy in her book, blah, blah, blah.

She released the curtains, walking over to the study to get some more work done on the book before Editor Julie came to town. It wasn't going to be pretty; this definitely wasn't one of her best. "Oh well," she drawled. She opened up the laptop again and sat down, staring at the screen.

The cursor flashed over the first line. _Chapter One_. She scrolled to the bottom. _The End. _Draft one. She stared at it for a few more seconds and then hit 'command' and 'A.' For a brief second, she wondered what she was doing and then she just said forget it and hit delete. She closed the laptop and got up, leaving the study.


	3. Drizzling

**A/N:**Thanks for the reviews :) Enjoy!

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**Chapter 3: Drizzling**

"Mom, I really don't understand why you wanted to come, I mean this is a work thing." Julie tried to get Lyla again, but she wasn't answering her phone. She grumbled about recluse writers and tried again. No answer. Damnit. I need to change my number. Maybe then she'll answer. Maybe she had been bothering her lately, but the outline she'd reviewed could use some changes. Not too many, just a little.

She looked over her shoulder at her mother, who was leaning on the ferry railing, looking out at the dock as they approached. "This is just breathtaking," Tami gushed, holding up her camera. "Honey, come here. We'll take a picture together."

"Mom, seriously? This is my job. This is me proving to my boss that I can handle a real account like this." I'm an assistant. A junior editor, there was no way that they'd give me this type of responsibility if it weren't a test. She flashed a quick smile at the camera lens, letting it instantly fall when the camera clicked. "Okay?"

Tami wrinkled her nose at the screen on the back of the camera. "I don't know. You're not really smiling."

This was surreal. She still couldn't understand why her mom was even with her. She frowned, her voice quiet, no longer joking. "Mom is this a mid-life crisis? You already had one of those when you had Gracie."

"Excuse me?"

Forget it. Maybe I'm the one having a mid-life crisis. Nevermind. Julie pushed up on the railing, reluctant to agree with her mother, but she was right. This place was beautiful. Very green. Freezing, with the mist coming off the water, but green. There were mountains, trees, water…she frowned, pointing off the bow to a large black…fin sticking up out of the water in the distance. "What's that?"

Tami consulted her phone, which probably had a guidebook. "It's probably an orca whale. This island is called Orcas Island, after all." She turned around, looking to the other side of the ferry. "How do you think Lyla found this place? It's like…the middle of nowhere." She pushed her sunglasses up on her forehead, squinting. "Guess I don't need these, there's no sunlight."

It was a strange place to end up, especially if you started in Dillon, Texas. Middle of nowhere in the plains and now she was middle of nowhere in the Pacific Northwest. Guess that might be what people think of me going to Chicago, she supposed. She ran her hand over the collar of her coat, not reaching in beneath the folds of her scarf to touch the ring she could feel against her skin. It was there and she knew it was there; it was just kind of comforting to remind her.

She turned away from the railing, walking over to sit on a bench; just about everyone else was inside, but Tami wanted to see the dock and the city as they came in, taking pictures. It was her new hobby. Julie wondered what was going on with her mother; maybe she truly was in a crisis of sorts. She'd heard that she was flying out to visit with Lyla and had said she'd meet her in Seattle, she wanted to "get away."

Without Dad, she wondered. Or Gracie? Well, Gracie was in college, but still. It was Dad that had her wondering. Of course, Tami had questioned how come she hadn't really talked about Matt much. Guess we both have our secrets, she thought, removing her phone from her pocket to check the instructions that Lyla gave her. It was her first time visiting her here. In fact, it was her first time seeing Lyla probably since she left town for Vanderbilt.

Matt's dad's funeral, she remembered. That was the last time she'd seen her. She'd thanked her for attending. Probably wasn't the way she wanted to spend her break home from college. Then she hadn't seen her again, just found out that she was one of the authors that the publishing company represented and one day her boss announced that she was going to fly out to meet with Lyla on her newest book. "This is a big catch and we're very interested in his particular book," her boss had warned her. "It's getting a large distribution and printing, her advance on it was also a pretty penny, so don't screw it up."

Roger, she'd thought, but inside she was quaking. It was a big break for her, after slaving away in internships, some paid and some not, and even trying to write her own book on the side. She looked down at the dock, seeing the small town from her perch at the top of the ferry boat. "This is a really small town," she said out loud. What the hell was Lyla doing in a town even smaller than Dillon? She'd go insane.

"There's some larger towns on the other islands. I guess she just likes this one." Tami pulled on upright roller luggage, nodding towards the stairwell. "Let's go down, that way we're the first ones off."

"Mom, I'm working, I can't go sightsee."

"Well I can."

Julie frowned again, following her mother down to the main level, waiting behind a chain in front of where they'd walked on to the ferry. She looked down to the dock again, saying nothing. I'll have to call Dad, she thought. She wanted to know why he and Mom weren't together on this thing. Or why Mom was here at all. She pulled at her luggage, walking down the gangplank to the dock and through the small little ferry terminal, stepping out into a welcome area in front of the parking lot.

Okay, so Lyla said that she'd meet us…she smiled briefly when she saw the other woman climbing out of a silver Jeep Cherokee. "Lyla!" she called, waving her hand in the air.

"Hi!" Lyla called. Her eyes widened and she laughed, running up the sidewalk towards them, her arms outstretched. "Mrs. Taylor! Oh my goodness, it's so good to see you! What are you doing here?"

For that is the question, Julie thought. She peered sideways at her mother, who didn't look like she'd changed much in sixteen years. Her hair had slight silver to it, but it was hardly noticeable. Other than a couple of stress lines in her eyes, she seemed exactly the same. Tami grinned broadly, hugging Lyla tight. "Oh you know, I heard Julie was coming up here and thought I'd tag along. I heard this part of the country was beautiful, but I've never been."

"Is Coach Taylor with you?" Lyla asked, innocent. How was she supposed to know, Julie thought, if I don't even know. She smiled again. "Of course, duh, he's probably coaching. It's football time, right?"

Tami nodded, smiling and walking towards Lyla's Jeep. "Yeah, it's football time. Funny you have to ask. I take it football isn't that big out here?"

"Not like Texas, but the school district is pretty small that they don't really have many other teams to play and there's lots of travel involved. It's definitely not like the entire town shows up for it, that's for sure." Lyla opened up the back of the Jeep, leaning in. "Sorry for the mess here, but I've got a 16-year old. She seems to come with more stuff now than when she was a baby."

Yeah, the 16-year old. I've wondered about her, Julie thought. She knew of Scout, but had never met her. Tyra had met her twice, said she was a really good kid. _"Like a mini-Lyla that looks just like Riggins_," she'd described her. "_It's really freaky_."

I'll have to judge for myself, she thought, lifting her suitcase up into the back of the Jeep. "We're staying at a bed and breakfast in town," she said, walking around to the backseat, since her mother was already getting into the front. "If you just want to drop us off, I'm sure I can find us a rental car for the next couple of days."

"Rental car?" Lyla chuckled. She shrugged. "You got in late today. Herb's closed. You'll have to get it tomorrow. I'll take you over there. Right now the only thing you can rent are bikes and boats."

What kind of a small town is this? She blinked a few times. This was foreign to her. "No car?"

"There's a shuttle service that can take you to main parts of the island, mostly the tourist places but it isn't tourist season so it doesn't run as frequently. Don't be silly, I'll take you to check in and then you're coming with me to dinner at our favorite place." Lyla picked up her phone, which was buzzing. She set it back in the cupholder and disconnected the call when it went through her car. "Now where was I?"

Is that what you did to me, Julie wondered, frowning slightly. She leaned back in her seat, looking out the window. "So where is your daughter?" she asked. Scout. _To Kill a Mockingbird_. She had no idea that Lyla was into American literature to the point where she'd want to name her kid after a character. "What's her name again? Scout?"

"It's actually Mary, but yeah, Scout is her nickname." Lyla sighed hard. "Um…hate to say this, but you came at a bad time." Her voice dropped again, slightly harder. Cooler. "Her father decided to drive to town."

Well then, she instantly thought, lifting her eyebrows in surprise. She leaned forward a little more, peering around at her mom, to see Tami's reaction. It was just as surprised as hers, Tami's eyebrows visible above the top of her sunglasses, which she'd pushed down onto her nose, probably out of habit. "Oh?" she asked, looking back to Lyla. She cleared her throat loudly. "Her father? So Tim?"

"Yes. Tim." One-word sentences, well then, Julie thought, leaning back in her seat. She checked her phone, ignoring the feeling of disappointment when she saw she had no new messages. Every five minutes she checked it and there were still no new messages. I don't know why I'm getting annoyed. I told him not to call me, she thought, sighing. He's my husband and he's actually listening to that? It seemed…wrong, somehow.

Dad never ignored Mom, even when she told him she didn't want him talking to her. Except for now, if that's why her mother was alone and not talking much about her dad. Stop comparing our marriage to your parents, she recited in her head, repeating his words from their last fight. It doesn't work like that. We're not them. As much as I'd like to be, Julie thought, putting her phone into her tote bag. She cleared her throat again. "I thought Tim was working on some big projects?" Seemed like a bad time to leave them.

"I wouldn't know," Lyla answered. She coughed a little. "So Scout is done with school today. I thought after you guys get settled we'd go to dinner…like I said…" she trailed off, repeating herself again. She sighed. "Nevermind. So yeah, Tim's in town, so apologies in advance."

Why apologize? Julie looked up when Lyla parked her Jeep in front of a wrought iron gate in front of a large grouping of pine trees. Through the trees she could see a beautiful house, almost haphazard, with lots of windows, doors, and gables. "Is this your house?" she asked, climbing out and walking around to the gate. I thought we were going to the hotel?

"Yeah, it's mine. Thought we'd just stop for a moment. Then I'll take you guys to the hotel." Lyla was kind of going all over the place, Julie thought, glancing at Tami, who seemed just as concerned. She shrugged. No big deal that they weren't going to the hotel first. Whatever. Lyla opened up the gate, walked them up a stone walkway to a front door and stepped into the house.

It was beautiful, was Julie's first thought. Cramped was another. The ceilings seemed low, but then again, the windows took up the sides of the walls. She walked through furniture, which now made her think cramped was 'cozy' and into a large back room that seemed to open out onto a large wraparound porch.

"What are you doing here?"

Julie looked up when Lyla opened up the back door, her question directed to Tim, who was lying on one of the chaise lounges, his sunglasses on and his face directed to the sky. "Catching some sun," he said, his voice droning. He shrugged. "I decided not to listen to you. Wouldn't be the first time." He paused, shrugging again, but didn't bother removing his glasses. "Probably won't be the last."

"Well that's a little rude Tim."

Leave it to her mother to have Tim flying out of the chair, his sunglasses pushing to his forehead as he looked for the source of the voice. He smiled quickly, trying to recover. "Hey Mrs. Taylor. Um…what are you doing here?"

"Visiting with Julie while she works," Tami said, smiling sunnily. She gestured to him with her sunglasses, moving them up and down. "What's this about? I thought you were working." She took the brief hug he gave her, but it didn't get her off topic, if that was Tim's attempt. "You visiting Scout?"

"Uh, yeah." He looked at Lyla, smiling again. "In a matter of speaking."

Lyla was silently fuming; I've seen that look before, I usually am the one giving it, Julie thought, nodding sympathetically. She knew that there was some history and tension with Tim and Lyla, but damn this was a lot. I'll have to talk to Tyra, but in the meantime, I have a job to do. "So Lyla, do you want to show me the book?" she asked. "You didn't send me a copy last week like I asked."

"Hmmm, yeah, in a minute."

"Actually I'd like to get a chance to peruse it. Tracy said that you're being pretty secretive with it and wouldn't even let her have a copy." Tracy was her boss. The one who was testing her with this. She tried to smile again, forcing it out. Do what she asks, Tracy told her. _"Lyla Garrity is a commodity and I am not interested in losing her to a bigger publishing company once she makes a little dough. She lives on that rock in the middle of nowhere and you're going to go there and get me that book. See if she'll come out of seclusion too. And change her pseudonym." _

It was a tall order, but Julie wanted to succeed on all accounts. It couldn't have come at a better time too. Lyla waved her hand, dismissing her. "Where is Scout?" she asked, looking at Tim. "Did you get her from school? Is she still sitting there?"

"No, she's not, and she's up in her room," Tim said. He smiled again. "Hey Jules. What's up? You didn't bring Seven with you?"

"He's working." As I should be doing too. She looked at Lyla. Again. "I'd like to see that book."

Lyla ignored her, going into the house. "Scout!"

Something weird was happening here, Julie thought, exchanging a look with her mother. Tami was giving Tim and Lyla a look. I know that look. You're psychoanalyzing them. "Mom," she warned. "You're here for a few days on vacation. Or whatever it is you're doing."

"I know."

Okay. Just so you know. Julie sent a text to Tyra demanding to know what was going on. She didn't know if Tyra still talked to Tim, but she figured that her best friend would at least have an idea of what was happening with him. She waited a moment, standing alone on the deck, and glanced down at the screen.

_Tim is with Lyla now? Sit back and get some popcorn. Enjoy the show, those two hate each other now. Like really hate each other. _

Hate? That was a strong word. She was about to say so when Tyra sent her another quick text. _ Lyla kept his kid secret from him for two years Julie. He still can't forgive it. It's not going to be pretty. _ Julie swallowed hard, sighing. Great. She looked back at it, reading it again a few times. Yeah, this is going to be fun. She looked down at the phone when it buzzed once more. She stared at the text, her eyes wide.

_I'm going to Dillon for a few days. Don't call. _

Don't call. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, shaking her head slightly. Well, you haven't bothered to call me, so…so I guess I won't call you. She wiped quickly at her eyes, looking up when Tami called her into the house to meet Scout. Yeah. Right. Work. Julie took another breath, composed herself, and went back into the house.


	4. Downpour

**A/N:**There's a lot of different storylines to this fic and it kind of goes in and out, with a lot of information in some chapters and not a lot in others. Hopefully people stick with it. It's also my first shot at truly writing Julie/Matt, so crossing fingers that those experts/readers approve. Thanks for the reviews and I do hope that it's enjoyable. :)

ETA: Oops! For about six minutes the wrong chapter was posted, it was chapter 5, not chapter 4, so apologies if you already read that and were thoroughly confused. This is the proper chapter.

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**Chapter 4: Downpour**

_Get out of my life. For once just get out of my life._

Lyla jumped a little, her eyes opening quickly. What was that? She blinked a few times, coming out of what she figured was a nap. She must have dozed off, she thought, looking down at her laptop, which was now on the floor. Well then. I guess I did doze off. She leaned over and picked it up, setting it back on her knees. The Word document was still completely empty. Page 1 of 1.

Julie had been asking her all yesterday evening to see the first draft of the novel, just to at least look at the first chapter. I'm going to be here for a few days and we're going to Seattle on Monday to meet with the illustrator for the cover art. It'd be nice if I had a book to look at before that so I know what it's even about. Yeah, Lyla had thought, but smiled along. That wasn't happening.

There is no book, she thought, closing the laptop and getting up, putting it on her desk. She sighed, thinking of the advance they gave her. Yeah she couldn't give that back. It went to Scout's college fund and to invest in her sister's coffee shop. She pushed away from the desk, walking through the house and stopping in the doorway to the living room.

Scout was sitting on the floor, watching TV, while Tim sat behind her on the couch. They both were stretched out almost exactly the same, with Artemis on the couch beside Tim, her head on his knee. Traitor, Lyla thought. She leaned against the doorway, glancing at the television. It was some football program. Smash's face graced the screen, a sportscaster after his knee gave out on him again.

"I played with him," Tim announced.

"No you didn't."

"I did too."

"I don't believe you."

"I'll prove it, I'll call him."

Scout grinned, climbing up onto the couch beside him. "No you can't do that. He won't take your call because you didn't play with him."

"Wanna bet?" Tim was already pulling his phone out, while Scout jumped even farther towards him, peering over his shoulder at the screen, her eyes wide. She was so happy, Lyla thought. She smiled, but her forehead wrinkled in concern. She's happy. There was just…Scout was a very happy kid. Always had been. She was relatively well adjusted for the moving around they'd done. The strange start to her life.

Lyla turned away from him and went into the kitchen. She frowned slightly at a pile of paperwork sitting on the table. That's not mine. She wasn't big into clutter. Papers didn't last long sitting out before she'd filed them away somewhere. Maybe it was Scout's homework, she thought, picking them up. She frowned, staring at the title of one of the papers. She turned around when she heard footsteps behind her, holding them up and staring at him. "You're selling?"

Tim opened up the fridge, rubbing slightly at his throat. "Do you have any beer?"

"No, I have wine. Explain this to me." She held up the real estate agreement, shaking her head in disbelief. "You're selling your house? Your dream house?" This wasn't right. Something wasn't right. Tim leaned against the fridge, holding a bottle of wine. He pulled out the cork and tilted it back. "Come on!" she exclaimed, groaning. Men. "Tim, seriously?"

"This tastes like spiked grape juice."

"Well that's basically what wine is. Put your name on that bottle or something." Lyla held up the paperwork again. "Tim are you selling your land?" she whispered. She couldn't believe that. This had to be a joke.

He twirled the cork in his fingers. "Life hasn't turned out how I'd like it to be Garrity."

"What the hunting ranch and the women? You have that, you can have the women too," she laughed. She didn't understand. He loved that land and that house more than anything. Sometimes she thought more than even Scout. It had been his first love, before he even knew about her. She looked down at the papers again. The date was within 30 days. "Is this why you came out here?" she whispered. She looked up again. There had to be something. Something had to trigger him driving the entire way from Dillon to Washington.

He shook his head again, taking another pull from the bottle of wine. After a moment of silence, he set the wine on the counter and leaned back against it again. "You know Gar…" He paused, running his tongue over his teeth. He swallowed hard, his jaw tightening and he met her eyes again. He released a hard breath. "Lyla."

"Why are you doing that?" She looked over her shoulder into the living room; Scout was ensconced watching some program, holding Artemis in her lap. It didn't matter. She walked out of the kitchen onto the deck and down the flight of stairs towards their small stretch of beach. It was almost entirely rock and very little sand. She walked down the stairs, shaking her head again. "You're not calling me by my name."

"Lyla? That's not your name?"

"You know what I mean," she said, looking over her shoulder. She hopped off the steps onto the beach, stopping and waiting for him to join her. She crossed her arms over her chest, studying him for a moment. "You know what I mean Tim." She repeated.

He walked by her onto the beach, stopping a few feet away before turning around. "You don't like that I don't call you Garrity?"

"No, I don't like it," she whispered. It was her name with him. It was what he'd always called her. He'd stopped. She didn't like it. No matter what they felt for each other, she just…figured that would be one of those things that would stay. She frowned up at him, her arms crossing her chest. "Tim why are you selling?" she whispered again. Begged, practically.

"What's it matter?"

"It just does."

"You hate me," he laughed. He turned around again. The biting anger that had been there yesterday and the day before when he'd first shown up was gone. He smiled again, sadder this time. "Lyla I ruined your life. You hate me."

That's not true at all. "How could I hate you?" she asked. She walked by him towards the water, turning around and laughing again. "Tim…Scout is the best thing that ever happened to me. She wouldn't be here without you."

"Come on Lyla, no nineteen-year old wants a kid!"

"And that's why I didn't tell you!" she shouted. They were going to go right back to this fight again. The same fight they had every single time they were within five feet of each other. He was never going to forgive her. He'd flat out said so the last time. She pushed her hand through her hair, catching it in the knot at the base of her neck. She let it fall, pulling her hair with it over her shoulder. "Tim," she said, her voice softer, approaching him. This is why we will never get along again. They were just…too much was in contradiction with what the other thought and the other wanted. "I am not getting into this again. Scout is sixteen."

"And I didn't know about her until she was two," he whispered. He smiled tightly. "I'm sorry Lyla. That's not going to go away. This fight isn't going to go away." He cocked his head, his eyebrows lifting slightly. "Would you have ever told me about her?" No, she thought, frowning; it showed on her face and he nodded, whispering. "Figured. You got caught."

"I didn't get caught," she said.

"Yes you did. You got caught. You couldn't keep it from everyone anymore."

No. She couldn't. She closed her eyes. That had been… "Do you know how hard this has been for me?" she said. She swallowed hard. They'd had this conversation at least 100 times. It boiled down to only a few main points. "Tim, you were in prison."

"Yeah, I was in prison!" he yelled, throwing his hands out to the side. He never yelled. He was getting really angry, she thought. "I was in prison Lyla, I wasn't going anywhere! You could have told me, wasn't like I was going to run away or something!"

"You were in prison, what was I supposed to do, tell you hey Tim, guess what, that amazing three days we had together, I found out two months later that I was not in fact sick with a stomach flu, but pink and blue flu!" Lyla pushed at his shoulder, following him down the beach. This was following their usual pattern of the fight. They'd just mentioned prison, now was going to be how she was planning on telling him. "Tim I was going to tell you, I called my dad to get your phone number or at least get a message to you, and he said you went to jail that morning!"

"And you didn't want to tell me a year later when I was out of jail?" he asked. He turned around again, scowling. "Oh that's right, the last time we had this fight, you said you didn't tell me because you thought I was with…"

Now was the third point. "I thought you were with Tyra! My dad made it sound like you guys were going to get married or something, excuse me for not wanting to get involved in that again!" Excuse me for not wanting to ruin your life. She wrinkled her forehead again, tears welling up in her eyes, her voice almost gasping. "Tim you were happy. He said you were actually doing better…you were…you were building your house and you were getting back on track with Billy, you were seeing Tyra, and I wasn't going to go in there and say that…that guess what? You're a daddy. By the way, she's almost a year old. Haven't told you."

He stared at her for a moment, his eyes closing tight. "You let me think…" he trailed off, turning back to her again. His voice was quiet. "Lyla you let me think she was someone else's. I had to…Jason…" He couldn't even get it out, finally dropping his hands from his forehead to his side. "You even talk to him anymore?"

Now we're on the fourth point. She shook her head, breathing. "I can't talk to him Tim. He's your best friend."

"And he chose me over you, you still mad about that?"

No I'm not mad about it. She shrugged, whispering. "He's your best friend. Was always going to be your best friend. He was my ex-boyfriend, Tim. I don't make a habit of still talking to and being best friends with my ex-boyfriends." She barely spoke to Jason. Jason found out. Jason made his bed and took his side. The fact that he'd done what she asked him not to do…it angered her. It'd been fourteen years since he'd told Tim. Since she had Tim on her doorstep, yelling at her for answers. To see his kid. Did it hurt? Of course. She thought Jason would let her make her own decisions, but he'd gone ahead, violated her trust and told Tim without consulting her. "Doesn't matter anymore."

That was the fourth point. We're almost to the end, she thought. Tim turned around again, dropping the topic of Jason. "Lyla, she's sixteen now. I'm not doing this whole thing like it's been. I want her back."

"She was never yours to have."

"I want her in Texas."

This was a new point. Tim had never demanded that before. Just visitation. When he wanted it, unfortunately. You want her in Texas? Seriously? "How can I do that Tim? You're selling your house! Your beautiful…your dream." You can't just do that. You can't just sell that place. Even she was sure of that. The last time she'd been there it had almost been enough to get her to move back, before they got into another one of their famous blowouts and she was on the first plane back to Tennessee, where she'd still been living. She pushed her hand to her heart. "Scout is happy here Tim. We have a routine, we have a life…"

"And I can't be part of that?"

"Tim you're still a mess!" she exclaimed. She laughed. "You're an absolute mess and you always have been. Your business is half-assed, you only care about your house, which you're selling, and you come in and out of Scout's life when you feel like being a father. You can't provide anything. You're still just a big kid who is blowing his way through life." She sighed again, whispering. "You're just a mess." It was harsh. She knew it was harsh, her eyes widening at the flash of pain on his face. His mouth fell open slightly and he quickly closed it, his eyes wide on her. She reached for him, but he pulled away, marching down the beach. "Tim!" She ran after him, grabbing his elbow and turning him.

At the same time, he grabbed her face, pulling her up to him again. Stop it, she thought weakly, her arms around his neck, holding him tight, and returning the kiss. She fell slightly against him, her back going against one of the large rocks around them. It was freezing, but she didn't care. She broke the kiss a moment later, still lying against the rock. He pushed his hand into it, holding himself up over her, both of them still tilted. "We have to stop doing that," she whispered. How can we properly dislike each other if we keep doing this? Unfortunately their bodies didn't know what their minds were trying to tell them.

He swallowed hard. "I didn't mean what I said yesterday."

"About what? You said so much," she said, her fingers curling into his hair. It was still so long. She swallowed nervously, looking straight into him again. There was so much history between them. It was practically impossible to overcome. She knew what he was talking about though. "I don't like this between us," she said. She smiled a little; sad. "You're Scout's dad. She loves you. I love you for it." Have to be careful with that word. It got them into a lot of trouble last time.

Five years ago, she thought, closing her eyes and dropping her forehead to his. He ran his fingers over her cheek, dropping them down to her hand, slowly curling around her wrist. His thumb pressed into her pulse, which began to quicken. "About…about the other girls," he said. "What I said about them not getting…not getting pregnant."

Hmm? Oh, the comment. "Yeah," she said, remembering. "That one hurt."

"So did yours."

"My what?"

He tossed his hair from his eyes, frowning slightly. "The one about me being the sperm donor." He smiled again, sad. Not the bitter look he'd been giving her the last couple days. "Yeah…still hurts. Even after five years."

"You just…"

"You don't really give me a lot of chances to be her dad, Lyla." He chuckled. "You moved almost to Canada to get away from me."

That wasn't why I moved here. There are other reasons. "I moved here because my sister is here. Because I needed help with Scout. Because…because this place is beautiful and it's quiet and I can be myself." It isn't fast-paced New York City or Los Angeles, but that was never her thing. All she ever wanted was to…to see stuff. Once she figured out who she was as a person. She barely got a chance. A few weeks at Vanderbilt and the stick was pink. Her father's high school fear for her had in fact come true. Lyla let go of his hand, trying to pull away, but he wouldn't move. "Tim."

He sighed again. "I'm selling because…because it doesn't matter right now. I want Scout back. I want my daughter, Lyla and this time I'm not leaving. This time I'm not going to let you chase me away or…or fight so much we just have to leave before we kill each other."

What brought this on? She still didn't have near an answer. "Tim you love that place and…" She bit her lower lip. This was going to bite her in the ass, but…she still cared for him. She didn't know what was happening with them here. Why this whole thing even started with him, but…she reached for him again, kissing lightly, her eyes fluttering shut. "I can't let you…" She took a deep breath, slowly releasing it. "Tim I can't let you see Scout if you sell that place."

He drew back almost immediately. "What?"

Yeah. Bit her in the ass. "Tim until you can show me that you have a place for her in Texas, that this isn't a phase or something, then I can't even think about letting you have her for longer than a week or something." She let go of his hands, slipping out from under him. She walked away from the rocks, feeling him coming after her. She kept walking, not stopping. "Tim, no!"

"You can't make an…a…an ultimatum like that!"

"Yes I can, she's my daughter, I have full custody, and we're not married."

Then he said it. The thing they'd been avoiding for the last three days, the thing that she wished he wouldn't bring up. He laughed loudly, his words slashing through her like a knife. "Yes we are Lyla. You tend to forget that, don't you?"

She stopped in the sand, her feet numb. It was beginning to rain. Not just a mist or a drizzle, but rain. Fat plops of cold water sinking into her bones. She turned, her hair now in her eyes, turning to ropes. "We're not married, it wasn't legal!"

"Keep telling yourself that, but it was."

Oh don't pull that crap. "No, it wasn't. My lawyer looked at the certificate, we didn't have the standard waiting period, so we're not married!" She held up her finger when he stepped towards her again, warning him off. I swear we are bipolar. There's no definition on what we have or what we ever really had, so…so this is what ended up happening. They'd have a few nice moments, they'd be sad for a moment, maybe they'd kiss or have sex, and then this would happen. This nasty side of it, where reality intruded into the mix, where it became clear that they were in different periods of their life and resented the other for not being in the same period.

He rolled his eyes. "Waiting period? Didn't matter Lyla, we are married!"

"Not legally!"

"We said the vows!" he shouted. That was what this was about, she thought, scowling. He glared at her, his voice dropping. The rain was coming down hard now and he pushed his hair from his eyes, his t-shirt sticking to him. He wasn't even shivering, which she was now, her lower lip protruding and turning blue. "We said the vows Lyla. We swore. We said we loved each other." He paused. "And then you panicked."

"I didn't panic," she whispered. She smiled sadly again. "You woke up the next morning and were hungover. You were drunk when you said you loved me. When you realized what happened…you were the one who stopped it."

"You didn't help Lyla. Don't put this on me. You said it was a mistake too."

"And then you said some horrible things," she interjected. _Get out of my life. Just for once get out of my life. _There was more to it though. _Ever since you came into my life it's sucked Lyla. You make it horrible, you make me feel bad. I love you and you leave and it sucks. I thought you were gone for good and then I have a kid with you and you're never going to leave so just get out of my life and leave my kid. Get out of my life and maybe it will be good again. _It flashed in her head again. The tortured look on his face; maybe it was true. Maybe all they ever did was drag each other down, when she always thought it was the opposite. He made her more comfortable in her skin and she made him be the best person he could be. She clenched her eye shut, literally shaking the words from her head. She pointed her finger at him. "You said horrible things to me."

"And so did you!" He laughed. He narrowed his eyes. "What was it again Lyla? We just said it. Sperm donor? That what you called me? Remember!"

I'm not going to do this for the 100th time. She reached for him again, kissing him hard, her lips slipping against his as she shuddered, his hands cold on her skin as he tried to pull her closer. Damnit, she screamed inwardly, letting go. "Let that hold you over," she said. "Because I'm serious this time Tim."

He smiled darkly. "And how many times have you said that now?"

"Too many to count," she said, truthful. She let go of him, turning around and trudging back up to the house. She went in through the back door and up the back set of stairs, hearing Scout calling for her, asking where she was because Julie and Tami were on their way over. The book. Lyla didn't say anything in return, going into her room and closing the door, locking it quickly.

She slid down to the floor, staring up at the ceiling. Damnit, she thought again. She sat in a puddle of cold rainwater, shivering, and knowing she had to get up and get warm before she got hypothermia. Why Tim, she wondered. Why did it have to be like this? She stood up, going into the bathroom and turning on the hot water. She stripped down, her skin chilling further in the cold room. She huddled into herself, standing beneath the hot water and steam, thawing out.

Married…that was stupid, she thought, closing her eyes. They were high at the time. High on the idea that they could be together. They'd raise their daughter. Tim said he'd forgiven her for what he'd done. We were so, so stupid. They'd run to a justice of the peace, they'd signed and they'd gotten married. Three days later she realized what they'd done. Realized that he was in the middle of some financial stuff with his business, that he might lose it. He'd been drinking when he'd said he'd forgiven her. Backtracked on it, admitted that he just couldn't do that, as much as he wanted to do it, he couldn't.

So she got on the next plane to Seattle and brought Scout back to Washington. She'd let Scout to talk to Tim. Call him, do the phone video thing, and she'd put her on a plane a couple of times to go back for a few weeks to visit Buddy, but she knew that Scout stayed with Tim when she went to "visit Grandpa." She hadn't spoken to him since two days ago, when he'd shown up in Eastsound.

Somewhere in the back of her mind, she heard shouting again from downstairs that Julie was here. Julie was here. The book. "Shit," Lyla cursed. She scrubbed her hands over her face, warming it up. She had to tell her the truth. There'd be no book, because there really wasn't an inspiration this time. The main character in her previous three books was the same character, and she just…she didn't know anymore, because she really had no idea who his real-life inspiration was anymore. She couldn't figure this Tim out.

Give me a few more weeks, she thought, turning off the water and reaching for a thick towel, wiping her face and then wrapping it around her. Maybe she'd have something then. If Tim decided to stick around that long.


	5. A Break in the Clouds

**A/N:**This will alternate between Lyla and Julie POVs, just FYI :)

* * *

**Chapter 5: A Break in the Clouds**

"Um, thanks for the tea, but I really, really need to see the book now," Julie said, setting down her mug. She looked across the kitchen at her mother, who was sitting in the living room with Scout, both of them discussing her syllabus. She frowned slightly, looking up at Lyla, who was putting the teakettle back on the stove. "Where's Tim?"

Lyla cleared her throat. "I don't know." She looked down at mug. "Where's Matt?"

And the answer to that would also be 'I don't know.' Julie cleared her throat again, tapping her folder on the table, smiling quickly. "Let's go over the novel. Do you have a title in mind?"

"Um…Unknown."

"Unknown? So is the novel about…self-discovery or…" she trailed off, seeing Lyla's slightly embarrassed smile. "Oh. You don't have a title." Great. No title. No big deal though, the book wasn't set to go to print for several months. They'd get one later. "Okay, that's cool. So main characters? Plot? Meaning? Theme?" I'm just throwing out things here Lyla, give me something to go on.

Lyla sat down across from her, smiling again, her eyes sparkling. "So you and Matt, huh? How long have you been married? Ten years, right?"

"Yeah, ten years."

"Any plans for children?"

That would be a negative, she thought, her eyes flickering with pain. She shook her head, picking up her pen and beginning to scribble on the notepad in front of her. "Um, no, no kids."

"I didn't ask if you had kids. I'd hope I'd know that," Lyla said, smiling again. She cocked her head slightly, her voice soft. "I asked if you had plans? Feel free to tell me to shut up, I might be overstepping."

Julie released a sigh. "No, no kids. No plans." Which was the problem, but that was a story for another time. She tucked her hair behind her ear, looking back down at the tentative schedule for the book. "So I'm hoping to get the first draft edited in a couple weeks. We'll meet with the illustrator…why are you shaking your head?"

"Because we're not going to meet with the illustrator." Lyla looked at her straight across the table. She blinked. Her voice was crystal clear when she spoke, very definite. "There is no book."

No book? Julie felt something kind of course through her spine. Is this a stroke? Am I having a stroke? She felt her eye begin to twitch. She pressed her index finger to it, staving off any potential neurological disorder that was about to occur. She cleared her throat, leaning forward a little. Her hand tightened around the pen. "No book?" she asked, her voice going up a little on the last word. "What…what do you mean no book?"

Lyla sipped her tea for a moment. She set it down on the table, smiled politely again, and shrugging. "No book. I deleted it yesterday."

"Deleted?" Is that really my voice? That doesn't sound like my voice. I sound like I'm having a fit. Her eye twitched again. She cleared her throat again. "Um, well, you…you deleted your book?!" Now she was mad. Maybe I'm going through the stages of grief in one fell swoop, over the course of microseconds. "What were you thinking!?"

"Excuse me," Lyla said, her voice cooler now. "I deleted it because it was not my best word. The previous three Rose Evans books were much better than these ones were."

"Rose Evans? That is not the main character and you know it Lyla. The main character, the reason people read those books, is Tommy Granger." He was a very fascinating character. Lyla had him down pat. People liked him, it's why the books began to sell more when they realized there were a series of them and not just one novel on the town of Nealon, Texas and its interesting inhabitants. Lyla could have an entire series just off of that alone, Julie thought, as it was painfully obvious that it was just a caricature of Dillon. She tapped her notepad again. "Now, I saw the outline…"

"Then why are you asking questions?"

"To see if they marry up with the outline, which now they don't, because you don't even have a book. Is it even recoverable?" Maybe they could get it to a computer person and retrieve the document.

Lyla shrugged. "I don't know, maybe, but it doesn't matter. The book was terrible. I'm not a writer."

"Three books says you're a writer. Not just a writer, a novelist."

"They're just books," she laughed. She rolled her eyes. "Cheap knockoffs of romance novels."

"Well seeing as in the first book Rose and Tommy cheat on their best friend together, I don't think that that's the foundation for a cheap romance novel, which if I'm not mistaken, begin with a meetcute, have a misunderstanding, throw in some comic relief, a grand gesture, and a happy ending." Julie waved her hand. "Slap a cute picture on the cover or a half-naked dude and then it's a romance novel. Your book was scary, Lyla. Scary, because it stripped down people's psyches. People read books like that to get away from things, but they also make you think. It's a good book."

"It was my journal," she laughed. "It was a journal and I turned it into a book."

"And the second book ends with Tommy finally wooing Rose. The third one ends with Rose leaving Tommy standing on the side of the road as she goes off to live her life and Tommy goes to jail for a crime he didn't commit. What's the fourth one, Lyla? Rose is accidentally pregnant and doesn't tell Tommy for two years?" Julie sighed, closing her eyes at the frown that Lyla sent her way. Big mouth. "Sorry, I…I didn't mean that."

Lyla snorted softly, looking into her mug and whispering. "It was about that, but…it had a different ending and…and I don't quite know if it was going to be…" She shook her head, sighing again. "I don't know Tommy's character right now. It wasn't what I thought it should have been and the ending wasn't that great. It was too happy and neat of an end so I deleted the book."

"And there's no chance you can get it back and maybe just…edit it?" Please? What the hell am I supposed to tell my boss? Julie reached to her ring, twisting it around on the chain on her necklace. Tracy was going to kill her. I'm never going to get promoted or trusted with anything of this nature again. She slipped the ring onto her finger, still on its chain, and then took it off again.

"So where is Matt?"

Julie finished scribbling a note to herself to check into data recovery of deleted files, not answering Lyla's question. "Do you have an idea for the next book? Maybe we can salvage this if you just…write it in the next two months. We can still keep to the publishing schedule." A book written in two months? Seeing as Lyla took years for the other books, this was going to be a challenge.

"Yeah, Rose kills Tommy. We can make it a murder mystery."

"Does she kill him in a fit of passion or just because…"

"Because he's an idiot who does stupid things like sell his dream house and land," Lyla mumbled, clearly to herself, picking up a newspaper sitting beside her mug of tea. She paused, lifting her eyes up slowly and meeting Julie's. "That's hypothetical."

"Tim's selling his house?" she demanded. What in the hell? He'd spent like two years building that thing. "What about the business?"

"Who the hell knows with that," the other woman said, finishing her tea. She shrugged, getting up and taking the empty mug over to the sink. "For all I know the business is bankrupt. Probably is, actually, if he's selling his house."

The last Julie knew, Tim was doing contracting work. It was also a bit of a handyman business too. She didn't think you could have too many of those running around. There were always people that didn't want to fix their houses. She twisted her ring a little tighter in her fist. "I can't believe that he's selling," she whispered. That just seemed…strange.

"Well in any case, you didn't hear it from me."

It seems to really bother you, Julie thought, looking up at Lyla, who was putting things into the dishwasher. She cleared her throat. "What about a novel that isn't Rose and Tommy?"

"I'm not a novelist. I don't write stuff that isn't related to my life," Lyla mumbled. She shook her hand through her hair, rocking on her heels and shrugging. "I could write a book about teenagers. I have one of those."

"Those are a dime a dozen."

"Yeah, but Scout…"

"She's a good kid," Julie said. There was no intrigue or novel there. Even Lyla seemed to agree. She twirled her pen around on the notepad, looking up when Tami entered the room. "Hey Mom."

"Hey sweetheart. Lyla, I have to tell you, this house is just adorable, I may end up moving here," Tami chuckled. She looked back over at her, smiling again. "Sweetheart have you talked to Matt today? There's an art gallery in town where I think his work would sell pretty well."

"That's Anne's," Lyla said. She nodded in agreement. "She loves local artists, but she'll sell anything if the tourists will buy it. The town practically explodes during the summertime. It'd be a good place."

I wouldn't know about that. "Matt doesn't like me getting involved in his business stuff," she said. It'd be easier than saying that he just about detested it. She'd gotten her nose involved too much, he'd had enough, so she was respecting it. Even if she didn't really agree. She didn't get that involved.

"Well just call him."

Mom, I know what you're doing. She closed her folder up on the notepad, looking over at Lyla. "We need to really rethink some things. I can't tell my boss yet or they will ask for your advance back."

"I can't give it back. It's already spent."

"Of course it is," she said, sarcastic, and rolling her eyes. This was just going from bad to worse. She looked up when Tim walked in, something in his eyes that she'd never seen before. And it looked like worse was going to utter disaster. "Is there a problem?"

"Stay out of this Julie."

"Don't talk to me like that."

"You're just going to go tell Tyra," Tim snapped. He looked over at Lyla, scowling hard. "We need to talk. What's this I hear about a boy?"

"Oh my God," Lyla said, rolling her eyes and turning around to the sink. "I thought you were going to get on me about taking her back to Texas or something."

"In due time Lyla. There's a boy here, Scout is talking to him, and I don't like it at all. What is this, you letting her…carrying-on out there or something?"

Oh my God, Julie thought, walking out of the kitchen. Sounded like her father when she was sixteen. She left Tim and Lyla, who were now starting to fight; she'd never been around them much in high school. They had their own little group of people they were friends with and she had hers, so this was the first she'd seen or rather, heard, of them really fighting. She paused in the hall, frowning slightly when she heard Lyla raise her voice about why Tim suddenly cared now and then he shouted back something about how he had to make sure Scout didn't turn out like them.

Low blow, she thought, wincing slightly at Lyla's comment about how Scout was not going to turn out like them, because Wes was at least nothing like him. Another low blow. She shook her head slightly, turning around and going onto the deck, where her mother was sitting, reading a book. "Mom," she said.

"Hey," Tami said, closing the book. She shook her head, a look of disappointment evident on her face. "I don't like how they fight. It's not like them."

"It's none of our business," she reminded her casually. She shuddered slightly at something slamming from inside. "Definitely is weird. I've never heard Tim yell before."

"He has to get really worked up," Tami said. She scowled. "Tyra told me once that they hate each other. I don't think they hate each other at all. You don't act like that if you hate someone."

"How do you act?" she asked. Not that she'd know. She really wasn't sure she'd ever truly hated anyone. It was an ugly word. It was just…angry. There had to be a lot like that. She shrugged, whispering. "What about like…like Matt and his dad?" That was the closest she could come to understanding hate. Matt still said he hated him, but she just thought Matt hated the idea of…of what had happened with his dad and their relationship. Not that he hated the person. You didn't bury your father with your two hands if you hated him, she thought.

Tami smiled a little, turning her book over in her lap. It was the first in the Rose and Tommy series, Julie thought, seeing the pseudonym at the bottom. She tapped the book. "You can be angry and hate someone. You can yell at them, but…but they don't hate each other. Tim drives her crazy and she drives him crazy. That isn't hate."

Well as I said, I wouldn't know, she thought. She looked up a little. "Mom, what's going on with you and Dad? Why isn't he here?" And why aren't you with him? If I'm not going to work, then I've got to do something. She lifted an eyebrow. "I'll call Gracie. Maybe she'll tell me."

"Gracie doesn't know anything," Tami said, rolling her eyes. She flicked through the book a few times, setting it back on her knees and cleared her throat. "Your father and I have been married for well over thirty years Julie. That's not all easy and sometimes we…we fight. I wanted to get away for once rather than sit around while he went through a mood."

"What kind of a mood?" she asked. They didn't go to bed angry. That was kind of their mantra.

Tami chuckled, almost reading her mind. "Sweetheart we're not fighting to the point where we're not talking. I talk with him every single day. I just don't want you to worry yourself. Not when you have your life, when you'er working on this book…" she trailed off, smiling again, her eyes softening. "We had a disagreement about our careers again. It's the one thing that we have…that's been a sticking point when it comes down to it in our marriage. Your father wants to take a job in Texas. In Austin."

Austin? That wasn't a big deal. Gracie was going to school at University of Texas. She always imagined her parents would end up back in Texas anyway. They liked Philly fine, but she knew that even after fourteen years they still felt a little like outsiders. "So what's the problem?" she asked. "That's not so bad, right?"

Tami shook her head again. "We're not done in Philly yet. I'm not going back to Texas just because he decided to put out feelers and make some calls. Now he has a job offer, he has about a month to decide, and he didn't consult me on it at all. I'm not moving back to Texas just because he's decided to be done with Philly and didn't consult me." She smiled a little. "Doesn't mean we're not speaking. I decided that I would join you and thought maybe some time apart will…make the heart grow fonder. It's working, he wants to talk more about it than he did a few days ago. Baby steps, sweetie."

Baby steps, she thought, rolling her eyes and looking away. "Yeah," she whispered.

The book cover closed again. "Where is Matt?" Tami asked.

"Dillon," she whispered. She looked up, seeing her mother's surprise. She smirked. "I don't know where but…probably Tim's house." He'd sold his grandmother's house a few years ago, after keeping it for a little longer than she thought was necessary, but she also knew that he didn't really want to let go. Selling it was him finally letting go of her. Julie tucked her hair behind her ear. "Yeah, he…he's going to Dillon. Doesn't want me to call."

That's as much as I think I can talk about right now. She looked up at Tami, who was frowning. "He doesn't want you to call him?" she asked. Julie nodded. Yeah. That's what he said. "What does he think you did?" she asked. Nice wording Mom. Don't accuse me of doing something.

"He thinks I…" she trailed off. She didn't want to talk about it. Tears pricked the corners of her eyes. "You know I can't…not right now Mom. Just…just not right now." She stood up, ignoring her mother's silence, which was almost screaming at her to come back and sit down. Tami could say so much without saying anything at all. She walked off the deck, going down the stairs and through the small backyard to the stairs that led to the beach.

It had really rained earlier. Now it was kind of muggy, but winds off the water were chilly. She wrapped her arms around her, chastising herself for not taking a jacket when she'd gone out of the house. She walked down the beach for a few minutes and then sat down on a large flat rock, looking out at the water. Wow, she thought a few minutes later. This was…beautiful.

Peaceful too. She let her hair fly back from her face from the wind, her arms wrapping around her, tugging her sleeves farther over her fingers and she lifted her knees to her chin, wrapping her arms around them. Her feet curled in her tennis shoes.

Several minutes later, she heard footsteps behind her. "Mom, I don't want to talk."

"Well that's not something I hear from you, but from someone else, usually." Julie looked up, seeing Lyla walking towards her, holding out a blanket. "Here. If you plan on staying out longer. Saw you from up at the house." She sat down beside her on the rock, smiling again. She looked back at the water. "This place is peaceful. Reminds me of me sometimes."

"Yeah?" Julie looked sideways. "What's that mean?"

"I don't know. Just…it's quiet, but it's wild and…and I know that people think I'm this nice little church goer, but…" Lyla smiled quickly, her eyes narrowing slightly. "I got pregnant at nineteen after spending three days inside of a trailer with my ex-boyfriend. I didn't tell him. Didn't even tell my father. Let my mother raise her for the better part of two years before…before my father found out and then my ex-boyfriend…and then two years after that…I took her back from my mom, raised her in Tennessee, moved to Texas for five minutes…moved to California…back to Nashville…and then here." She sighed hard. "And the only person I could count on was me."

That is like the exact opposite of my life. Julie smiled a little, reaching to touch her ring again. "How did Tim find out?" she asked, turning her head slightly.

Lyla continued to stare at the ocean. She sighed hard. "My best friend betrayed me." I don't know what that means, Julie thought. Lyla glanced sideways again. "Jason Street. He found out…he told me that he was going to give me a week to figure out how to tell Tim or he'd do it for me. I didn't think he would. Told him it wasn't his business, but…but he told Tim. I don't know how or what he said, just that I was in Texas at the time. I was visiting my dad and…and I'd already told my dad…I didn't tell him who her father was just that…just that I had a baby and I was sorry for making him think it was my mom's, but I didn't know how to tell him and it kind of snowballed. It took a lot, but he forgave me."

"And then what happened?" Julie asked.

Lyla chuckled, tossing her hair out of her eyes. "Well I had Scout in the other room and Tim was at the door. He yells a lot more now than he ever did, but when he's so angry that he can't see straight…he's silent." She closed her mouth, staring off again. A few seconds later, her voice was quiet. "He was so quiet. Just stared at me and said 'is it true?' That's when I knew. Jason told him and…and that was it. I think he knew, but he didn't say anything. There was about…about six months there where he knew I had a daughter, but he believed her father was someone else because that's what I let my dad think."

"Lot's of lying," she said.

"Yeah," the other woman said. She swallowed hard. "Too much lying. I'm too good at it because I let myself believe a lot of it was true." Lyla blew out a hard breath, shrugging. "Anyways. That's how it was. Then the whole town found out the next day. Once again Lyla Garrityw as the slut who slept with Tim Riggins. Got pregnant and didn't bother telling anyone. Then Tim met Scout for the first time as her father and not a stranger and after that, two days later I left." She waited a few more minutes before talking again. "So how come you and Matt aren't speaking?"

She chuckled, shrugging nervously. "What are you talking about?"

"You guys aren't speaking. You haven't spoken about him once. You have your ring on your necklace."

Julie didn't want to talk about it. She hadn't even told her best friend, let alone someone who by all accounts was a total stranger to her. Although…hell, maybe that will make it a little easier. Less judgment. Especially from someone who had been judged more than her fair share in her life. "Matt and I aren't speaking because he thinks…" she trailed off, shrugging. "We were young. We didn't talk a lot when we were young about…about us. Not like you probably should when you're married."

"What happened?"

She shrugged again. "Lot's of things," she murmured. She covered her hand with her stomach briefly, before bringing her hand back to her knees. "Things that we just…didn't want to talk about anymore, so I'm here and he's in Dillon."

They continued to sit. Until Lyla's next question had her reeling. "When did you lose the baby?"

Oh my God. She felt her head kind of spin, her eyes clouding over. She felt dizzy. Her head turned sideways; Lyla wasn't even looking at her. "Excuse me?" she whispered. She didn't even know how to answer that. "I don't…" she laughed nervously. "What are you even talking about? You don't know me, you can't just…just ask someone that…"

"I've had a child," Lyla said. She turned her head sideways, smiling slightly. "You carry yourself differently. It's something that I notice in women. I notice a lot of things. I'm not as ignorant as I think people think I am. Or as maybe I once was." She smiled again, a little wider, her eyes soft and understanding, her quiet voice comforting. "You don't need to talk about it, but if you ever want to, I know we're not…we're not friends and we barely know each other, but I'm here and…and trust me, you and Matt…I mean I don't know, so I probably shouldn't say, but…" She shrugged, climbing off the rock and walking away, turning her head slightly and calling out. "But it can't be worse than Tim and I."

No, Julie had to agree with that. She turned back around to the water and smiled, before looking back at Lyla. "Thanks!" she called, lifting her fingertips. She waited for Lyla to go back up the stairs to the house, looking out at the ocean. She closed her eyes, fighting tears. No one had put it in such stark terms before. Miscarriage. She hated that word.

I didn't want it and I thought it and then I lost it, she thought again, opening her eyes and tears trailing down her cheeks. So it was my fault. Her reaction to it and Matt's had been vastly different. He'd mourned, said that they could have really had something. When would she be better again because they should start trying. Really trying for a baby. We're not getting any younger, he'd said. We're in a good space financially. My career is great and so is yours.

But it wasn't. They weren't in a great place financially. She was barely starting her career, the one she really wanted. He might be happy selling to small, local galleries and never having a big show, but…it just showed her how separate they sometimes lived, even for being married ten years.

Julie sighed hard, crying silently, and continued to stare out at the ocean, her mind going blank. She'd return to life in a minute. Right now she wanted to sit.


	6. Storm Clouds Again

**A/N:**Thanks for the reviews! Enjoy :)

* * *

**Chapter 6: Storm Clouds Again**

"Hey…Mom?"

What? Lyla rolled over in her bed, sitting up slightly and blinking. She frowned at the door, which was rattling. What time was it? She glanced at the clock. It was four in the morning. Seriously? You're not five and it isn't Christmas morning, she thought, swinging her legs over the side of the bed. "Coming," she mumbled, shaking her hand through her hair. She unlocked the door and pulled it open, stepping aside as Scout walked into the room. She closed the door. "Honey, what's going on? You okay?"

"Yeah, um…why's your door locked?"

Because I don't trust your father and I don't trust myself, she thought. Unlocking the door was one barrier she'd have to get through if she found herself going down to his room. She shook her head, ignoring the question. "What's going on?" She went back to the bed, holding the covers back for Scout to crawl in with her, like she was five again.

Scout crawled under the covers and curled up near her, their heads sharing the same pillow. Maybe it was because she was a teenager when she had Scout, she wasn't sure, but often Lyla thought they were more like best friends than mother-daughter. "I was just thinking," she whispered.

"At four in the morning?"

"I was reading."

Of course you were. Lyla opened her eyes slightly, peering through the darkness at Scout. She seemed so earnest. This is about your father I'm sure. She sighed, closing her eyes again. "What's troubling you?"

It took a minute, but after chewing her bottom lip, Scout finally spoke. "Well…I mean, Dad's been here like three days and…and I was thinking, you know, maybe he could just…" Scout bit her lower lip again, her eyes wide. "I just wondered if you guys had talked about…about him staying. Forever."

Oh baby girl, she thought, cringing. She turned and wrapped her arms around Scout, pushing her face into her daughter's thick dark hair, spread out like a pool of ink on the pillow. She shook her head; they'd never told her about what happened five years ago in Dillon. For good reason. Scout had seen too many of their fights, she'd been hurt by the tension. They didn't need to hurt her anymore than she already was, just by the situation itself. "Honey, we can't do that," she whispered.

Logic wasn't going to work on someone who was thinking with their heart. "Why not? You guys are talking and…and I know Dad's all annoyed about Wes, but Mom…we're friends." You're lying, Lyla thought, narrowing her eyes. Scout had a tell when she lied. She wasn't good at it. Sometimes I wonder if she really is the product of Lyla Garrity and Tim Riggins, Lyla thought. It seemed like most of their bad habits or less than desirable qualities had been flushed out. Both her and Tim could hold records for how many lies they'd told and actually believed. "And well…you guys are talking more than you did and I just…I think it could be really cool if Dad moved here…what?"

It must be showing on my face. Lyla smiled sadly, shaking her head, her brow furrowed. "Scout, he's not going to stay. You know how he is, he's going to come and go as he pleases."

"I know, but something's different. He's never come here. Just the one time and that was because Grandpa made him."

Yes, the one and only time, six years ago, when they'd first moved to Eastsound, her dad had come to visit. He'd basically dragged Tim with him, demanding that they communicate and get married for his granddaughter's sake. Parents should be married, he'd stressed, over and over again. Even if we can't stand each other, she'd wondered, but Buddy never seemed to understand that.

"Yeah, but…" Lyla trailed off, not sure what to say to that. Tim was selling his land and his house. Something happened and it wasn't just that he decided he wanted to change his life and be a better father. If that were the case, selling didn't make any sense at all.

"Mom, I know about the house," Scout whispered. She kept going, pulling her arms tighter around her. "I overheard you guys in the kitchen yesterday and so I called Uncle Billy…"

Ugh. Billy. "Scout, I told you…"

"I know you don't like me talking to him, but he's my uncle and I don't know, I wanted to ask and he told me that Dad's business isn't doing great. He needs money and so he's going to sell the house to get it. He's just not been doing great. He had a girlfriend and they broke up and it wasn't good and…and I think he lost some big job, but I don't know and…Mom I think all of this is happening because I think…" You think a lot, Lyla thought, turning her head again, looking back up at Scout, who was still rambling. "Mom I really, really think…I think it's because he misses you."

It's not because of what you think, she thought, shaking her head. He's not doing any of this because of me. It's because he's Tim Riggins and his attention span is very short. He was never going to be overly successful, Lyla thought. He never had a plan. It was just…just Texas Forever and now that he had that he was selling it. She really didn't understand it anymore than Scout was trying to understand it. "Honey, he doesn't miss me," she whispered, looking sideways, her brow wrinkling again. "He's just…your dad has never wanted anything big, beyond his life in Dillon. He's not going to move, no matter how much you want him to move, he won't leave Dillon. I know that, I tried for years, Scout."

Scout shook her head again, her eyes even wider. "Mom he's really different. He cares more. Why can't you guys just…"

Why can't we just be together, she was asking without asking. "Because," she laughed, taking Scout's face into her hands. She smiled sadly again, whispering. "Because we tried, Scout. He's clearly going through something and if he wanted to come up here to see you, that's good. That's really good. It's because of you, not because of me."

"Mom I want a dad, I don't want this…this week in June type thing. I'm sixteen now."

You're sixteen now. Lyla closed her eyes briefly, shaking her head and whispering. "I was sixteen when your father and I first got together Scout. I don't want you to be like that."

"Mom I haven't…" Scout's face flushed. "I'm still a…you know."

That's nice to know, but it's sweet you think you have to tell me. "I know." I dread the day when that happens. Means you're not my baby girl anymore, Lyla thought, staring up at the ceiling. She glanced at her daughter again, whispering. "But I don't want it for you either way. I want you to love someone one day Scout, but not like your dad and I."

"But you guys do love each other, it's romantic."

It's sweet that you think this is romantic. Right now it's not. Maybe in some story it was, but not this one, she thought, smiling sadly again and shaking her head. "We love each other Scout. Don't think we don't. We love each other so much, but…" she swallowed hard. This was so difficult to explain to a sixteen-year old. "But we love each other differently now and…and it's not…we're not getting back together. Your dad has a lot he still needs to do, Scout. Settling down with the two of us…it's not the right time. The timing is always going to be off and believe me, if I could make it where you have both of us in your life every single day, I would, you have to trust that. Trust that I'm trying to do that, but I also have to protect you and I don't want you getting hurt."

It wasn't sinking in. She could still see Scout's confusion. Why can't you guys just get along, she was probably wondering. Lyla sighed hard, her eyes closing tighter. "Scout, if you have questions…you can ask them, I don't mind. It doesn't hurt me."

"Why didn't you tell him?"

Her eyes opened. She sat up slightly against the headboard, looking down at Scout's curious face. Tim's eyes. Green. Emerald, practically, when she started feeling angry. Aqua, almost, when she was happy. Lyla reached her hand out, brushing over Scout's cheek. She let it fall to her knee, thinking about how to answer that for her daughter. She shrugged. "I was scared," she said. She smiled a little at Scout's frown. "Yeah. Me. I was terrified of telling him. I had just started college, I had just left Dillon and we were always so careful. It was the last thing either of us wanted in high school. Your grandfather was terrified of it, that's for sure."

"Grandpa doesn't like Daddy?"

I know, seems confusing now. "No," she chuckled. She shook her head. "He didn't like him back then. He loves him now." It was funny. Buddy seemed like he loved Tim more than he did her from time to time. She kept going. "Your dad had just gone to prison. He's talked to you about that, right?"

Scout nodded. "Yeah, he told me. Said it was for a mistake. That he was…protecting someone, but he won't say."

No, he wouldn't say it. He'd never let anyone else know. "Well he was in jail and I found out I was pregnant. I was finally away from home and here I was in college, my first semester, and I'm…I'm pregnant and your dad was in jail and Grandpa was going to kill me and…so I didn't tell him. I was worried for what he might do."

"But even after jail?"

"I'd walked myself into a corner, I couldn't get out of it," she admitted. Lyla pushed her hair through her hair, whispering. "Scout, I love you more than life and I wasn't going to let anything hurt you. I was scared. I was scared about what my dad would think, about what your dad would think. I kept it hidden. Grandma helped me, she raised you…and then I couldn't keep it secret anymore." She reached to cup Scout's cheek, smiling softly. "You look so much like him."

"I'm sorry," Scout blurted out.

Lyla closed her eyes, shaking her head and chuckling. "Oh baby, no, don't be sorry. It's good. Your dad's a good looking guy."

Scout giggled. "We went to the market yesterday, after he freaked out about Wes, and Fanny Wharton was totally flirting with him."

"She's eighty-three!"

"Apparently not too old to flirt with Dad."

"Did he flirt back?"

"Only because he said she was one of the prettiest women he'd ever laid eyes on," Scout said, smiling again.

"Ugh, he's such a man whore," Lyla mumbled. She lifted her eyebrow, quirking her lip up at Scout's grin. "What?"

"Are you seriously jealous of Mrs. Wharton, the 83-year old proprietor of Wharton's Market and Deli?"

"No!"

Scout bunched her pillow up under her chin. "You know Mom, I don't think I'm ever going to understand what you and Dad are doing or…or what you have or…or whatever, but…" She smiled again, whispering. "I know you might not think much of him, but he's a really good dad."

I know he is. Lyla smiled again, wrapping her arms around Scout. "His dad was never in his life, Scout. It's why…why what I did hurts him so much." It's why he's never going to be able to forgive me. Tim didn't keep grudges, he didn't do that, but…but she did one of the worst things you could do to someone who didn't have a father, who loved their father despites his faults. It didn't cross her mind, until she saw the disgust and anger in his eyes when she'd opened the door, when she realized that Jason had told him. "I kept you from him and…and he can't…his dad wasn't there Scout. I know that even if he didn't want children, he'd still want to be in their lives, because his wasn't."

"He told me he wants me to come to Texas, for summers." Scout closed her mouth, swallowing visibly. "And I want to do that. I want to go for summers. I'm sixteen. I'll be eighteen in two years and then it won't matter. I can go wherever I want."

"I just don't want you to get hurt," Lyla said.

Scout shrugged. "And if I do then it's my fault, not yours Mom."

How did you get so wise? She shook her head, smiling a little. "Well Scout, I still have two years to make sure that I can do all in my power not to hurt you. To protect you. Your dad is going through a lot right now and I just want you to understand that he loves you so much, he really does, but he…if he does something that upsets you…let me know and…and understand that he may not even know what he's doing."

She nodded again. "I understand."

I don't think you do. I think you're going to get hurt. Lyla reached over to stroke her hair for a moment, before she kissed the top of Scout's head, sighing. "I cannot believe you are sixteen," she murmured. She closed her eyes tight. "And you're dating."

"I'm not!"

Okay fine, you're not, but…she sighed again, whispering. "Honey I want you to be happy. I know there will be boys involved. You can talk to me about Wes. Trust me. I've been there, done that, and I've made so many mistakes. If you ever want advice, I can give it."

Scout stared at her for a brief moment before she pulled away; physically and mentally, Lyla thought, already seeing the little shutters close. Just like Tim, she thought. Her daughter stared up at the ceiling for a minute before she turned away, her back towards her. "Can I stay here tonight?" she mumbled.

"Yeah." She remained awake, even after Scout had fallen asleep, her breathing deep and even. I can't sleep now, she thought, getting up and shuffling out of the bedroom and down the stairs. She paused at the guest bedroom door, which was cracked open. Very slowly, she pushed it open, and peered into the dark room. Tim was asleep, the sheets and comforter a tangle around him. He always slept like he'd fought a battle with the bed before he'd fallen asleep, she thought with a slight smile. His arms were flung over his head and she could see his foot sticking out from under the comforter. There was a hand the top of his head, but other than that, he was buried.

Until he pulled the comforter down over his face, looking straight at her. "You coming or going?" he whispered.

"Neither," she answered.

He grumbled, pulling a pillow over his head and rolling onto his stomach, yawning. "Make up your mind."

She watched him for a few more seconds before she turned away and closed the door, walking downstairs to the back sunroom. She curled up in the picture window, looking at the ocean and wrapped a throw blanket over her shoulders. It was relatively chilly; I hope the heat isn't going out, she thought. She didn't look up when footsteps padded into the sunroom with her. Tim sat across from her on the seat, wrapped up in his comforter. He leaned against the window, following her gaze to the ocean. "Why are you here?" she murmured, tugging her blanket tighter around her.

He mimicked her motions with his comforter, his shoulder lifting. He didn't break his gaze from the water. "Some stuff…just some stuff." He looked over at her, smiling sadly. "You should talk to Tyra. She's more on your side than you think." I don't think I will do that, but what does she have to do with anything? He smiled again, his eyes shadowed. He looked back outside, whispering. "She kind of said some things. Doesn't matter."

Oh I think it matters very much. "Why are you selling your house?" she asked, changing her question. She repeated her previous one, hoping he'd answer at least one. "Why are you here, Tim?"

"I wanted to see Scout."

"And Tyra said something? You're losing your mind Tim. You're all over the place. Manic. What's happening inside of you right now? You can tell me," she said, stressing that. I need to know. We have a kid together, this affects her. I love you, I don't want you making mistakes, she thought, frowning. I don't need to protect you, but I just…he was here. Something happened.

Tim said nothing, still looking outside. "I'm a terrible father," he murmured.

No. No you're not, she thought, shaking her head, frowning. "Tim."

"I'm going back to bed."

"Tim, please," she whispered, turning on the picture seat, watching him retreat. She blinked a few times, put off. What was that about? She leaned back into the seat, drawing her knees up. She looked back towards the doorway, where he'd disappeared a moment before. She got up, going up and into his room, watching him; his back was turned to her, the comforter pulled back up over his head. She approached him slowly and sat on the edge of the bed, looking at him for a moment. I know you're still awake. She sighed, her hand going to his shoulder. "No matter what I will ever feel for you," she said, choosing her words carefully, because she knew he was listening. "No matter what goes on between us, good or bad…I will always be sorry for not telling you about Scout because you are an amazing father. There's nothing I can do to make you forgive me but…I can just keep telling you over and over how sorry I am." She took a deep breath, slowly releasing it and closing her eyes. "I might want to kill you a lot of the time, right now I might not even like you, but I cannot deny that you are a great father…when you're around. So…so that's what I want to say. Good night." She stood up, hurrying from the room and closing the door, but not without looking over her shoulder and meeting his gaze for a moment. She closed the door behind her and went back up to her room, crawling back into bed and hugging Scout, going back to sleep.


	7. Waves

**Chapter 7: Waves**

"This is it? This is what you've written so far?" Julie stared at the two sheets of paper in her hands. She read aloud from one. "Rose stared painfully at Tommy and then she stabbed him fifteen times with a carving knife." She looked up at Lyla, who shrugged, completely innocent. "You have some violent tendencies I suggest you speak to a psychologist about."

"It's just a fantasy. From a long time ago."

"What's a fantasy?" Tim asked, walking into the kitchen. He looked down at the papers and picked them up, reading. "Rose felt sorry for killing Tommy, but unfortunately it had to be done. What else was she supposed to do, she wondered, put up with him for another sixteen years? She supposed that she could have done that, but then she'd have killed herself along with Tommy. Either way, Tommy's fate was always going to be death at the hands of Rose." He flicked the papers down, scowling at her. "And to think you wanted a restraining order against me once. I should get one against you."

Julie didn't want to get into their drama, so she crumpled up the papers, throwing them into the trashcan across the room. She jammed her finger into her notebook, glaring at Lyla. "I have to call my boss today for a status update. Can I at least tell her the plotline you're thinking about for this next book?"

"Rose loves Tommy so much that she kills him," Lyla said again. She didn't look at Tim, who was drinking milk from the carton. "In the kitchen, with a pencil to his neck, because he keeps drinking from the carton instead of putting it into a glass."

Tim stuck his tongue out at her behind her back. Lyla didn't even look, but threw her pencil in his direction. He dodged out of the way and put the carton back into the fridge. "I have to use your computer," he said.

"Why?"

"Real estate stuff," he mumbled, walking out of the room.

Real estate stuff. She looked up over her day planner. "He's seriously still doing that?"

"Apparently he closes in 30 days," Lyla mumbled, checking her phone. She squinted at it and then set it aside, darting her gaze towards it again. "That's weird."

"What's weird?"

"My dad just made a comment about how he'd see me sooner than later. I don't like when he says stuff like that." She picked her phone up again, staring at it and then setting it back down, shaking her head slightly. "Forget it. Um, you were saying?"

"I was saying, your book? Hello? We cancelled the appointment in Seattle today, but I still need something to tell Tracy."

"Tell her its coming, I'm just having some writer's block."

I can't tell her that. I need you to overcome the writer's block before I can tell her you're even going through it. She shook her head slightly, holding her hands up. "Forget it. Let's go into town. Maybe that will jog your writer's inspiration or something." I need to get you writing about Rose and Tommy again. She ran her tongue over her teeth. "Let's bring Tim."

Lyla was already shaking her head. "No way Julie."

"Come on, I keep hearing from everyone that you guys really will kill each other and I just don't believe it. Let's bring him to town. Maybe it will get his mind off of the real estate stuff." Terrible excuse, but what else am I going to go with, she wondered, smiling at Lyla, who ultimately succumbed to it. They went into the study, where Tim was on the computer, his back to them, but Julie could see him scrolling through some sort of paperwork. "Come on Tim, we're going into town," she announced.

Tim turned around slightly, a set of glasses on his nose. He instantly took them off, shoving them into his pocket. "You have glasses?" Lyla exclaimed.

"No!"

"What are you doing with those? Let me see them."

"No, they're mine."

Lyla took them off his face, putting them onto her nose. She blinked quickly and widened her eyes, pulling them away. "Oh my God. You're blind."

"I just need them to read," he mumbled, clearly embarrassed that he had to have something as nerdy as glasses. He shoved them into the pocket of his black button down, looking up at them. "Where were we going?"

Julie announced it again. "To town. Let's go. The three of us." I need to observe this dynamic. Maybe it'll help with the book or something. She frowned slightly, as Tim got up from the desk, Lyla instantly taking her computer back. "Where is Scout? Maybe she'd like to come with us?"

"Your mom took her to the beach," Lyla said. She fixed her computer, looking up at Tim, her eyes narrowed. "How did you know my password?"

"I know you."

"You don't know my password."

"It was Scout and your birthday. You just changed it and you just changed it to Mary and then Scout's birthday." He smirked at her scowl again. "I know you."

Julie left them in the study, going back into the living room and gathered her things, leaving the house. She went over to her rental car, but Tim and Lyla were already walking towards Lyla's Jeep. Okay, guess Lyla's driving. She hopped into the backseat, while Tim took the front, leaning over to change the radio station the minute NPR came on.

Lyla smacked his hand off the screen. "Stop that."

"Stop hitting me."

"It's my car! My channel!"

Julie held her phone up, seeing a message from Tyra. _Enjoying the fireworks? _She smiled, texting back. 'It is entertaining.' She set her phone into her tote bag, leaning forward a little between the two of them. "So are we going to get going or what? By the way, Tim, what's this I hear about you moving?" I need a story for the book. I will instigate it, she vowed, seeing Lyla's sudden horrified look that she'd told and Tim's face twisting quickly with anger and then sudden acceptance.

"I'm not moving," he said. "I'm selling."

"You built your house and you're selling it? Why?"

"You know Little Taylor it's really none of your business. By the way, why is Matt staying at my house for a few weeks? Called me the other day and asked if he could crash there for a while. You have anything to share?" He waited a beat, turning his head back around to look out the windshield, shoving his sunglasses on, despite the fact that it was overcast. "I thought so."

Wow, she thought, rocking back into her seat, staring at the back of his head. Lyla was right. This was a different Tim. She wrapped her hand tight around her phone, sitting in silence as they drove into town, Lyla parking at a meter and climbing out. She pointed down the main road. "Just about everything is here. I don't really know where you want to go first."

Julie shrugged; she looked sideways at Tim, who was staring off into space. "You know," she said, her voice quiet. "At least Matt and I are working through our problems."

He turned his head slightly, looking straight at her through the dark sunglasses. After a second, he quirked his lip in a smile. "Hard to work through them when one person isn't even here, now is it?" He turned, walking off down the sidewalk towards a bar.

That kind of hurt, she thought, looking over at Lyla, who smiled sympathetically. "I don't know him sometimes," she whispered, by way of explanation for Tim's rude behavior. "It's unlike him. This whole thing is…is unlike him." She closed the driver's side door, walking with her down the sidewalk. "Do you want a drink?"

"Not right now." Definitely later. She looked up, shielding her eyes to a sliver of yellow light coming from the gray clouds. "Oh my God. Is that the sun?"

"It does appear. It's just fall. It goes away some days."

"Seems like all days."

Lyla shrugged, shoving her hands into her pockets. "I love it."

Julie kept walking, scuffing the bottom of her boot heel on the ground. She paused at a railing on a dock, looking out at the boats. "Do you have a boat?" she asked, glancing at Lyla.

"No, didn't see the need for one. I have a kayak."

"Really?" She smiled, soft, thinking of a memory. "Matt and I used to go kayaking in Lake Michigan. It was fun. Even in the summer it's be kind of cold, but it was still a lot of fun." She grinned. "Can't do that in Texas, right?"

"No," Lyla said, chuckling. She looked down at her hands, folding them together over the railing. "This is kind of interesting. You and I. Seems like our paths have kind of followed similar routes."

She straightened up, lifting her eyebrow. "I don't know. I didn't get pregnant when I was 19."

"No, but you've had your fair share of drama, right?" Lyla smiled quickly. She looked back out at the bay. She sighed hard, whispering. "You know the book thing? I didn't have anyone to talk to when I was pregnant. So I wrote a journal, because the other option was talking to the baby. I thought I'd be officially committed if I did that." She pushed away from the railing, walking along the dock, her hands shoved back into her jacket pockets against the wind.

I know what that's like. You don't really have anyone to talk to. It's an only child thing, which she was until Gracie came along, but the journal keeping kept up even after. She pursed her lips, shrugging. "So you wrote a book from the journal?"

"Yeah. Um, Scout was a baby and I had this boyfriend…"

"Seems like it'd be hard to have a boyfriend with a baby around," Julie commented. She couldn't imagine. You were still in college, trying to experience things, and you had a baby. She shoved her hands deeper into her pockets, lifting her shoulders up against the wind. "I kind of went crazy when I got to school, it just…it wasn't for me, I guess. I missed Matt…everyone." It was kind of surreal to think about that time in her life, where everything was falling apart.

It all got better though. She and Matt got engaged, she moved to Chicago, finished school there…we got married, she thought. They'd been engaged for a few years, taking it slow, and living together. I thought that was it. I thought… she sighed, voicing her thoughts to Lyla. "I thought that if we were living together for a while that when we got married…that would just be it. I didn't know that there was still more to talk about, I mean…the kid thing." That was it. The kid thing. Like a giant neon arrow facing opposite directions for both of them.

Lyla chuckled, reaching to pull her hair back from her face, tying it back in a knot at the base of her head. "Yeah, well…at least you didn't tell the guy it was okay to skip protection 'just once.'" She used air quotes, smiling slightly.

Julie shook her head, laughing. "Rule number one Lyla. Come on."

"Yeah, I know. I apparently skipped health class that day. I was so smart on everything. Just that one night. Stupid."

You keep saying stuff like that. She glanced sideways again, running her tongue over her teeth. "Do you regret it?" She didn't think Lyla did, but…she shrugged. There were things in her life she wished she'd had a chance to do over again, but she wasn't quite sure she regretted them. "Because regrets are…I mean…no regrets, you know?" I feel like I've heard that before. "Who said that? Feels like it's a mantra."

Lyla smiled, her face falling slightly. She frowned a little, shaking her head. "Tim says it. It's kind of how he lives. No regrets. Texas forever." She frowned deeper, whispering. "Seems like he's doing both things opposite. Regretting things and…and at the same time he's giving up his piece of Texas. It makes no sense, I can't…can't wrap my mind around it."

That's nice, but you still didn't answer my question. "Yeah, but do you regret it?" She wasn't sure what she was getting at, but Lyla seemed to know what her train of thought happened to be.

"You mean…do I regret not…having Scout?" Lyla whispered. She smiled a little at her shrug. She shook her head slightly, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her head, continuing along in silence for a few minutes before she lifted her head again. "No, I don't have regrets. I…I thought about it."

She arched an eyebrow. "You? Miss Church?"

"It's a personal choice. I don't judge others…or at least…" She shrugged, fully admitting her faults. "I try not to judge them. It's hard, I mean…no one can say they've never judged before, but…but yeah, I mean…I went to the student clinic to confirm the sixteen pregnancy tests. Two of every brand I could think of, I mean, hell, I could have done a science project out of it." She blew out another hard breath; it came out in a puff of visible air. "I took the brochures. I sat there for days. I mean…literally weeks, Julie. What should I do? Who should I tell? I was going to do it you know." She paused, shrugging again. "And then I chickened out. I thought I could do it. My mom said she'd help me. I was going to give her up for adoption, but again…chickened out. I'm not as strong as people think I am."

"I think it's pretty strong to have a baby when you're in college and alone and…and then give her to your mother to raise while you finished," Julie said. She smiled slightly. "I don't know about my mom, but I'd like to think she'd help like that."

"Yeah, well, there are other choices I wished I hadn't made."

"Like telling Tim?"

"Yeah." Lyla shook her head again, stopping in front of a door to a store called "Beans." She pushed it open, gesturing inside what Julie soon realized was a coffee shop. Cute name. "Enough about me. Now let's talk about you."

Oh hell, let's not talk about me. "What's there to talk about?" she asked, approaching the counter to order, but Lyla was already walking around behind the counter. "Um, I don't know if you should be doing…"

"My sister owns this place. Hey Katrina." Lyla greeted one of the baristas behind the bar with a hug and a kiss. "Is my sister around?"

"Um, she decided to stay the rest of the week in Vancouver. I think she's meeting some investors. She didn't tell you?"

"No, I just got a random text. Get my friend Julie whatever she wants."

Julie ordered a latte, taking it once it was ready. She sipped, her eyes lighting up. "Wow, this is good coffee."

"Yeah, we get it direct from a wholesaler in Seattle," Lyla said, coming out of an office in the back, shoving some books into her bag. She patted it and slung it back over her shoulder. "I help my sister out with the finances sometimes. I was a business minor."

"And physical therapy major."

"Yeah, that was actually a lot of fun. I still keep my license up, but the books pay the bills now." Lyla took a cup of coffee from the bar, walking out and onto the street again, turning to glance over her shoulder again. "So let's talk about you. Come on."

They walked along the sidewalk again, finally breaking out onto a boardwalk of sorts. Lyla dropped down the stairs to the beach, finding a bench. She set her bag aside and sat down, gesturing beside her. Julie sat down, unsure what they were going to talk about. She already had some ideas sparking in her head about book topics. "There's nothing to talk about," she said. She thought she'd said all that needed to be said.

"Why is Matt in Texas?"

She sighed; okay, maybe there was still some stuff. "I don't know. I think to clear his head." She glanced at Lyla again. Might as well bounce some things off of her. She'd kind of 'been there, done that' with relationship problems. Couldn't hurt. "Do you think I should call him? He said not to call."

"Call him, what can he do, you know?"

"If Tim told you not to call, would you still call?"

Lyla smiled quickly, her eyes narrowing slightly. "Ah, there's the rub. Tim wouldn't tell me to call or not call. I wouldn't call anyway, because it's two completely different situations."

That was true. She frowned again, glancing at Lyla. "You know, something's been bugging me about Tim. What's his problem? He's just so…angry. I mean, I've seen him angry, but you said it the other day. He's silent, usually. He's been all over the place the last couple of days."

"Got me. Call Matt." So we're not talking about Tim anymore, Julie thought, nodding along. Fine. I'll try calling him, but…she sighed, unsure. It seemed like it might make things worse. Lyla tilted her head up a little, peering up at her, smiling warmly. "You should really call him. Is there some reason why you think he'd be very angry at you for not listening?"

I don't know anymore. She looked out at the ocean, holding her coffee cup in her hands. She sighed, shaking her head, not looking at Lyla when she spoke. "We didn't talk after…after the baby. Matt just started talking about having another and we should try and…and all that stuff. He didn't listen when I kept saying I wasn't ready. I didn't know. I finally just…kind of lost it." She wasn't even sure who that person was, yelling at Matt to just stop and listen to her, how he never listened to her. Until Matt was yelling back about how she didn't listen to him, how he wanted to stop going to her book events and he thought she should do something on her own instead of bust her ass at the publishing company. It just kind of went chaotic from there and then they weren't talking. Then she came out here and he went to Dillon. She sighed again. "I had to get away from him. It felt like he was judging me for not wanting a kid just yet and…and he accused me of almost being glad I lost the baby."

Lyla chuckled, which had her turning her head quickly. She shrugged, lifting her coffee cup up slightly. "There are other reasons why I knew you lost a baby, Julie." She smiled again, softer. "I lost one."

There had to be another reason, you couldn't just guess, Julie thought, narrowing her eyes. "Was it Tim's?"

"Yeah. Scout was six. We'd had one of our nights together. When we were actually getting along. We didn't even break up fighting that time. Anyways, I didn't know either. Not until I wasn't feeling well, went to the doctor, and they told me what was happening. I was shocked." She ran her tongue over her teeth, her hand tightening around her cup of coffee. "We actually protected against it that time, which was what was shocking too. Three percent chance, you know? Hit the jackpot there. Anyway…I told Tim. Thought since we were in a good place he should know. He picked me up at the hospital two days later. He'd flown to California. Helped with Scout for a few days while I recovered. Then we got into one of our fights and he left." She smiled sadly, her eyes narrowing again. "It's hard. God just didn't want that baby born. Maybe for good reasons, I don't know. Think of it like that. It wasn't that baby's time. It wasn't your time or Matt's time."

"And Matt's trying to force the time," Julie whispered. She wasn't ready, she knew it. She shrugged. "I don't want to have baby when I'm not ready. I don't want to resent it."

"And that's admirable. I hate people that think they want kids and then when they get them, realize that it isn't all cute little shoes and cuddles."

My career is very important to me. She pulled her phone out, holding it up and turning her head to Lyla. "If I call him and he flips out, I'm blaming you."

"I take full responsibility."

Julie smiled quickly, still holding the phone up. "And if I call him, because you think I should call him and I'm going to take your advice…" I can get something out of this, she thought, cocking her head and smiling sweetly. Dad called it her 'Tami smile.' Good to know that I got something from her. She pointed towards her with the phone. "You write me ten pages."

Lyla rolled her eyes. "I'm in a…"

"I'm not an idiot Lyla. You know what you want to write about. Just write it. We'll edit it and fix it as we go, but right now I need something to bring with me back to Chicago. If you really want to help me, you will do that much, please." Pretty please, she thought, looking over at Lyla again. She knew she had her way when she saw Lyla's sigh of defeat and slight nod. Good. She looked back down at her phone and dialed, lifting it up to her ear.

Beside her, she felt Lyla get up and give her some privacy. She tightened her grip on the phone, listening to it ring. She cleared her throat, wondering what she was going to say. Hey Matt, she thought. Hi Matt. Hello sweetheart. Schnookums. Matty-kins…she was getting silly when she finally heard it stop ringing. "Um, hey," she said, before he could say anything. She cleared her throat. "Hey, it's me."

"Um…hey." He seemed surprised. "I was…wasn't expecting…"

"Matt! Where are you! I'm waiting!"

Her eyes widened, staring straight at the ocean. That wasn't anyone she knew. That was a woman's voice. All fear disappeared from her. "Matt," she said, her voice rising. "Who…who is that? Where are you?" Tell me you're at the bar or something.

"It's…" he sighed. "I'm at Tim's it's…someone. No one."

"Matt! Come back in here, I'm waiting for youuu!" the sing-song girl voice said. Oh my God, I'm going to be sick, Julie thought, covering her forehead with her hand. She swallowed hard, trying to stomach it.

She could hear Matt stammering, saying it wasn't what she thought. I don't know what I think, she thought, shaking her head and getting up, turning in circles a few times, horrified. "You have a woman there!" she yelled. She was going to kill someone. "Oh my God, I'm sitting here feeling…feeling sad and sorry and…and I thought I'd call you to talk or something because I miss you and you went to Dillon and you have a woman there! Oh my God Matt!"

"Julie, no! It's not what you think, it's not…I'm not…"

"I don't want to hear it!" she shouted, disconnecting before she could say something she'd regret. Oh my God, she thought again, dropping the phone into the sand, covering her face with her hands and crying into them. She wiped at her eyes, turning at the sound of her name. It was Lyla. She was back up on the boardwalk, waving at her. Tim was standing there, looking straight at her in that slightly scary direct way of his. She waved back at them, unsure where they were going, but they turned and walked off, not before Tim lingered his gaze on her for a few seconds longer than necessary.

He's at your house, she thought, glaring at his retreating back. He's in Dillon at your house and he has a woman with him. After all we've been through…she picked up her phone and shoved it into her bag, feeling anger course through her. She ignored a text message, the alert sound indicating it was her mother. I will definitely be talking to my mother, but right now I need to talk to someone else, she thought, pushing away the ill feeling she had over Matt with another woman. She wanted to curl into a ball in cry, but…I'm not a teenager anymore, she thought, burying her face into her hands. She took a few deep breaths, which felt more like sobs, trying to compose herself. I have no proof, no…nothing, I just…I don't know, she thought, pushing her hand to her forehead, her eyes widening slightly. What was happening to her? What the hell was happening in her marriage?

She lifted her face back up, seeing the two people walking down the street again. She stared, registering Tim checking his phone and then very slowly he looked up and turned his head, once again meeting her eyes. You, she thought, her eyes narrowing again. You. He glanced away, back to her, and then away again, putting his phone back in his pocket and catching up to Lyla.

Why, she wondered, her pace quickening as she focused on Tim. Why did you look at me like that? She had no proof, no…nothing, but…but she had some anger right now. She kept walking down the sidewalk, her brow furrowed, Tim Riggins in her sights.


	8. Ray of Sunshine

**A/N: **All will be explained, hopefully in an in-character manner :) Tim is spiraling out of control. I will get to his POV soon. There will also be more to Julie's story and more Scout POV. Enjoy!

* * *

**Chapter 8: Ray of Sunshine**

"Hey Mrs. Taylor, um, do you mind if I escape? I've got some homework to do." Not that I don't mind hanging out with you. You're actually cool for an adult, Scout thought, smiling politely at Tami. She gestured over her shoulder with her thumb. "I'll just walk back, you don't need to bother driving me."

Tami lowered her sunglasses slightly, smiling. "Okay sweetie. Be safe walking back, okay?"

It's Eastsound, there's like five people that live here, Scout thought, smiling and nodding. She got up from the blanket that Tami had brought with them to the beach, collecting her bag and her book, carrying both of them away from the ocean and leaving Tami to relax in peace. She tugged on her hobo gloves and reached in for her watchcap, tugging it down over her ears, her long dark curly hair in a thick braid over her shoulder. She went up the steps and knocked sand off of the bottom of her boots, walking down the path towards the main road.

I want to go home, but she didn't want to interrupt her parents if both of them were there. The more they were alone with each other, the more Scout thought they'd see what she could clearly see. They loved each other, they just didn't know it, she thought, determined. She wasn't being stupid or anything, she could see how Dad talked about Mom and how Mom talked about Dad. They just had to get their timing right.

Like me and Wes, she thought, her pale cheeks flushing slightly, even though she was walking alone. She still wasn't used to the fact that she, Scout Garrity, had a boyfriend. I'm the girl who would rather be studying and reading or running around outside or something. The idea that Wes liked her, she thought, smiling to herself. He was really cute, most girls liked him, but he asked her out. He understood a lot too. He lived with his dad and his mom was in Seattle. Not as far as Texas, but still.

She quickened her pace, walking through the rain, and turned down Wes's street. She'd told Tami to go to the beach closest to his house for good reason. She hopped over the back fence and ran across his backyard, knocking on the door. Wes's dad worked in Anacortes at the hospital, so he didn't get in until late, on the last ferry usually. "Wes!" she called.

The door opened and he smiled, pulling it open. "Come inside," he said, closing it once she stepped over the threshold. "Did you bring the math homework? I think I wrote it down wrong."

"Yeah, I've got it." Scout set her stuff down and shook off her coat, turning and grinning at him, wrapping her arms around his neck and dropping a kiss to his lips. "I had to get away from my mom's friend. She's really nice, but sometimes being around adults is so exhausting." She dragged her bag into the living room, where Wes already had his books on the coffee table, some sports thing on the TV.

Wes came back into the living room, giving her a bottle of water. She sipped it and then sat down at the coffee table, removing her things from her bag. "So how are your parents?" he asked, looking over at her with a slight frown. "They still fighting?"

She shrugged, removing her history textbook. "Yeah," she mumbled, thinking of some of what she'd eavesdropped on this morning. They were just…she shrugged again. "I can't explain it. They don't talk to each other but they know what the other is thinking. This morning my dad was just opening and closing cupboards and my mom gave him a coffee cup without asking. It's what he was looking for. Then Mom was doing something and Dad gave her a Kleenex just when she sneezed. They think the same, it's weird."

"Maybe they'll stay together. This ist he first time your dad's been to Washington right?"

"Second time, but the first time Grandpa made him come. I don't think he wanted to be here." This was the first time he'd driven up. Scout shrugged, twisting her pencil around, dropping her voice. "He wants to take me to Dillon."

Wes looked up, slightly alarmed. "Texas?"

"Yeah," she whispered. She began to write out the first sentence of the answer to the first question on her history paper, but she stopped. I can't think of the Punic Wars right now. I'm basically witnessing them at home. She sighed again, lifting her green eyes to meet Wes's light blue ones. "I sometimes think it might not be so bad, but…I like Eastsound. I just…kind of wonder what it's like somewhere else."

"It's just another small town, right?"

Right. I grew up in Nashville, which wasn't small. Then they went to California. Again, not small. Then back to Nashville. She barely remembered their brief time in Texas, because she was a baby. All she really knew was Nashville and Washington. It would be interesting, but…she shrugged again. "Is it wrong to be kind of…" She ran her tongue over her teeth. It was hard to explain. "I don't know…" Scout sighed hard. "I mean, I love my dad so much but sometimes I remember I don't really know him and he wants to take me to Texas permanently or at least for entire summers."

"It's not wrong," Wes said. He reached over and took her hand, squeezing it comfortingly, keeping his eyes focused on hers. Sometimes it freaked her out, how calm she felt around him. "Whatever you feel, it's not wrong. It's how you feel, you know?"

"Yeah, but would you?" she asked. She shrugged again. "Like…I know it's kind of diferent but if your mom wanted you to live in Seattle for months on end."

Wes shrugged, looking back down at his book. "I don't know. It's different. My mom wants to be a mom when she feels like it. That's not been for awhile. I don't even see her."

"Yeah, kind of like my dad sometimes." She didn't like saying that. She loved him very much. He was so fun. Sad sometimes though. She looked up, frowning again, voicing that thought. I don't know why I'm thinking it. "He's sad sometimes. I think he misses…people." He lived by himself in the big house in the middle of a field. It was really nice, but she kind of went stir crazy when she visited Dillon.

It was kind of like agoraphobia or something. She was so used to the cramped city of Eastsound, the little island surrounded by water and then in Dillon it was just…a house surrounded by land. Lots of land and no trees. Too open for her, she couldn't handle longer than a few weeks there, but…she wanted to be around him more. "I want to get to know him more," she said to Wes. I try telling this to Mom, but she just keeps telling me not to push it or something. I'll get hurt or whatever.

Mom stop protecting me, she wanted to scream, but she knew that was Lyla's job. Wes smiled a little. "You're sixteen. Just stick it out two years and you can do whatever you want. Go to college in Texas or something."

"Mom wants me to go to Vanderbilt."

"Where do you want to go?"

Believe it or not she wanted to go to Princeton. She hadn't admitted it to Lyla, who had been dressing her in Vanderbilt clothes her entire childhood. "It doesn't matter," she mumbled, returning to the Punic Wars. She answered the question, finishing her paragraph before she set her pencil down again. "I want to stay, but…I should really go home. I want to spend more time with my dad." In case he runs away again, she thought sadly.

"Yeah um…before you go…" Wes looked up from his books again, twisting the cap of his pen around in his fingers. He shrugged slightly, cocking his head. What, just spit it out, Scout thought. He looked up again, his voice soft. "Are you ever going to tell your mom that we're…dating?"

She instantly stiffened. No, she thought. Not that. Scout swallowed hard, reaching for her books, but Wes covered her hand with his, still looking at her. She bit her lip, shrugging. "What do you want me to say to her?"

"You tell her everything, why not this? She's like your best friend, you've even said so."

Yeah, because she is my best friend. Some people thought it was weird, until she told them her mom was nineteen when she was born. She moved around a lot. The only person she could count on was her mother, who was always there, even when she was living with her grandmother, as a baby. It was all because Lyla was finishing her degree, so she could be there. It was just…boys weren't something she talked about with her mom. "I can't explain it," she said, looking at Wes again. She laughed a little, wishing this wasn't a topic of conversation. "Wes, it's…it's nothing, I just…I just want to wait."

"I'm not saying we should be sleeping together or anything. I just want to meet your mom and not at the diner serving her food, you know?" Now he was getting agitated. Well I'm sorry, but not right now, Scout thought again. Wes sighed hard, letting go of her hand. "Whatever."

No, not whatever, she thought, scowling. She shoved her books away, still scowling at him. "You know, my mom was dating when she was like twelve. She was engaged when she was sixteen. She…" Scout sighed hard. She couldn't explain it. "Look Wes, I don't want to get…I just…"

Wes scowled again. "You can't get pregnant just by telling your mom you have a boyfriend, Scout."

I'm not talking about that, she thought, staring at him. "Forget you," she snapped, grabbing her bag and slung it over her shoulder. She spun on her foot, shouting at him. "I haven't told her because it's really hard. It's always just us, it has nothing to do with my mom getting pregnant when she was a teenager!"

"You know Scout, I'm sure this is wrapped up in your daddy issues, but all I want to just meet her, we are dating you know!" Wes scowled. He shook his head. "You don't need to keep me secret. I don't want to be secret, I want to tell people about us. We're sixteen, it's not like we're getting married!"

I don't want to talk about this, she thought, ignoring Wes and storming out of his house. She knew he wasn't going to follow her, so she slowed her pace when she got to the end of his street. It was raining, but she didn't care, stomping her rainboots into puddles on purpose. It made her feel better in her bad mood. What was his problem, she thought angrily. He didn't respect her decision on the matter, it wasn't like they were super serious anyway. He was her first boyfriend, she wasn't going to screw it up and telling her mother was going to screw it up.

That was the one area she didn't talk about with her mom. Lyla was very secretive about her boyfriends. She'd seen a couple of the guys, but Lyla hid it from her. The only real relationship she'd witnessed had been between her parents. It wasn't even a good one, with the two of them yelling a lot. Then they'd be happy again. Dad called her Garrity. Mom always rolled her eyes when he did something dumb, but she always smiled too.

I just want a normal life sometimes, she thought. She stomped into another puddle, ignoring the seeping cold water over the top of her boots. She looked up at the dark sky, shouting at the rain. "Can you please just get them together!? Send me a sign or something because I'm getting tired of it! Just…anything to show that I'm doing this right or something!"

"Scout?"

Scout spun on the heel of her boot, staring at her grandfather. In a rental car. Looking a little lost and confused at the rain. "Grandpa?" she exclaimed. Her eyes widened. It was really him. Holy crap! What was he doing in Washington!? She grinned. "Grandpa!" she shouted, running across the street and almost diving into the car. She grabbed hold of him, giggling. "What are you doing here!?"

Talk about a sign, she thought, pulling away and smiling wide, her face almost breaking into two. Buddy was smiling back at her, not even complaining that she was dripping water all over the car and him. "Look at you sweetheart, give me another hug! It's so good to see you! What are you doing walking around in this mess? You're gonna' catch a cold."

"It's not really raining."

"This downpour?" Buddy snorted. "I can barely see. Got turned around back there. Why are you walking around sweetheart, you are freezing! Here, warm up." He punched the screen on the dashboard with his fist, scowling. "Dang new cars."

She chuckled, adjusting the thermostat to slightly warm. She stowed her bag between her feet, turning slightly to face Buddy. "Does Mom know you're coming? Is this a surprise? You know that Dad is here, right?" I have so many questions and nowhere to start, she thought. She just knew that this was a great distraction from her fight with Wes, she wasn't even thinking about it right now.

"I do know your dad is here and no, your momma doesn't know I'm coming."

This is what I love about you, Scout thought, grinning at her grandfather. He used words like "momma." Very Texan. She leaned over and wrapped her arms around him quickly, giving him another hug. "I missed you Grandpa." She hadn't seen him in like a year. They talked every Friday. She felt closer to her grandmother, but that was because they lived with her a couple of times. But what was he doing here, she wondered, frowning slightly.

There was so much going on. So many different things, she thought, directing him through the town towards the house. It stopped raining by the time he pulled up behind her dad's truck. "I hope they're home," she said, hurrying out of the truck and up to the house. "Mom!" she yelled, bursting into the house. "Mom where are you? Guess who's here!"

Her dad emerged from the stairs, his eyes widening slightly. "Buddy?"

"Tim Riggins," her grandpa said. She giggled; he always called her dad that, like it was his real name, both the first and the last.

Scout furrowed her brow slightly, but kept smiling, glancing between her dad and Buddy. That was weird. Seemed like Dad knew that Grandpa was going to be here, she thought, shrugging it off. Oh well. Mom was going to be surprised though. It's been a week full of surprises, she thought, slightly giddy. This was great. Grandpa would totally convince Mom to let Dad stay longer.

She looked up when she heard the door to Mom's study open. "Mom!" she exclaimed, pushing through her dad and Buddy, grabbing her arm and dragging her from the doorway. "Mom, look who I found in town!"

"Oh my God."

Okay, so Mom didn't sound too thrilled, Scout thought, narrowing her eyes slightly at her mother, whose face went from pink to white within seconds. Lyla's eyes widened, a slightly demented smile on her face as she hugged Buddy. "Daddy…what…what are you doing here? You weren't kidding when you said I'd see you sooner than later. Um…special occasion?"

"Well you sounded upset on the phone a few days ago and Tim is here, so I thought that I might fly to Seattle and see you both," Buddy said. It wasn't very convincing, Scout thought, smiling behind her hand. He seemed flushed, his forehead immediately wrinkling. "Lyla, baby, we need to talk."

"Why don't you talk to Tim, Daddy? I need to finish some pages for my book. In fact, you know what? Scout, take Grandpa into the kitchen to get something to drink, he's probably exhausted from the ferry trip and the drive and all that. Tim, come with me." Lyla took her dad by the wrist, leading him from the kitchen doorway into the study, closing the door behind her. Tim was smiling, but trying not to.

Buddy wrinkled his nose. "Well what was that about?" He immediately waved his hand. "Nevermind. Come on baby, let's get something to drink and you can tell me all about what you didn't last week when we missed our call."

Yeah, she thought, opening upt he fridge. She poured him a glass of iced tea, clearing her throat. "Um, let me go upstairs. I want to show you my science project." Scout went from the kitchen up to her room, and closed her door. She smiled to herself. Mom didn't know that she could hear straight down to her office from her room. The house was old and there were all kinds of little nooks and drafts where you could hear anything that happened in certain areas of the house.

She lifted up one of the floorboards, crawling down onto her stomach and turned her head; she could hear crystal clear. Her head almost dropped into the floor, listening straight through the vent.

"Why is my father here? Did you call him?" Lyla demanded.

"I had no idea he was showing up, I promise Gar…Lyla."

Why did he do that, she wondered, propping her chin on her hand, listening as her mother accused her father of lying. He said he wasn't, that he was serious this time. Then Mom said something she had no idea about. "Does he know you're selling your house and land?"

Whoa! What the hell!? Scout drew back from the vent, her eyes wide. Dad was selling his house?! How did…why was he doing that, she wondered, frowning a little when Dad told her that that wasn't what they were talking about. They'd talk about it later. Promise, Mom asked, but she didn't sound as angry. Dad sighed; Scout could see him reluctantly agreeing to it, because she couldn't hear much of anything, until she heard her mom say something.

"We need to talk about the other night. What you said."

"We don't have to talk about that."

Talk about what, Scout wondered, craning her neck to hear as they spoke softly. Why were they talking so quiet? I need to know, she wanted to yell at them. What was the big secret? At least they were talking, a part of her thought. I want to tell someone, she thought after. Wes. No. No Wes. Something twisted in her stomach. She sighed, frowning and listening again.

"Tim, you said what you said. We need to talk about it. I know we've been…joking and stuff. That whole I want to kill you thing in my book, I'm not being serious."

"I know you're not serious. We're not talking about that. I was drunk."

"Like hell you were drunk, you were dead serious. Who told you that you're a horrible father? You mentioned Tyra said something. Did Tyra say that to you? Why is Julie mad at you too?"

"I'm not getting into Seven and Julie's stuff right now."

"But you know?"

"Let's stick with us right now Lyla."

"Oh so there is an us?"

They went back and forth for a few more minutes. What are you guys talking about, she thought, rolling onto her back and looking up at the ceiling. She got up from the floor a few minutes later, when she couldn't hear anything. They might have gone outside. She crawled onto her picture window and peered out; yeah, they were walking down towards the backyard. There was no way for her to listen in now. Damn.

I should go back to Grandpa, but…she suddenly felt an aching in her stomach. I want to tell someone about Wes, she thought, frowning. She turned away from the window, thoroughly confused. There was just…just so much going on right now, she wasn't sure what to believe or…or what to focus on first. How can my parents live like this, she wondered, reaching back to her dresser. She pulled down one of her favorite pictures, of the three of them in Texas. Grandpa took it, when she was younger. They were actually smiling. Mom and Dad weren't fighting. It was at Dad's house.

How old was I, she wondered. I think I was ten. That was a good year, when she was ten. They were still living in Nashville. Dad visited enough. They visited him enough. For a moment that's when she thought they were going to get married or something. She put the picture back and turned her head again, looking back out the window. They were at least talking.

"Mary?" She looked up when her door pushed open slightly, Grandpa leaning in around the door. He smiled wide at her. "You want to get something to eat?" he asked.

Scout quirked her lip. "Grandpa, how come you don't call me Scout? Everyone calls me Scout."

Buddy chuckled, walking over and sitting on the picture seat across from her. He looked out the window, his gaze focusing on her parents. "You know, your mom and dad are really something. I thought that he was just a flash in the pan with her, but somehow he stuck around. Now I don't think I would be able to live in Dillon without him around." He chuckled, patting her wrist. He sighed. "I don't call you Scout because it's not your name."

"It's a nickname."

He was already shaking his head. "No, your name is Mary. Your mom can call you Scout all she wants, that's her name for you." He paused, smiling slightly and shrugged. "What's your dad call you? Think."

Dad? He called her Mary sometimes. Scout on other times. She frowned slightly; that wasn't exactly true. There was another name. She looked up, breathing. "Garrity."

Buddy pointed at her, winking. "That's it. That's the nicest thing your dad can call you."

What? I don't understand, she thought, still thoroughly confused. She shook her head slightly, looking back up at him, her forehead wrinkled as she tried to think. He called her Garrity when they were alone. Without Mom present. She shrugged, her voice quiet. "I don't know what's going on around here. Sometimes it feels like I'm just wandering around." She wanted to talk about Wes with someone. Not with Grandpa. That would be mortifying. Her hands were shaking. She stilled them, reaching them beneath her knees.

Mom was a good mom. She loved her. Sometimes though…when Dad visited…it'd be nice to have both or at least…at least a mom that didn't act like she was my best friend most of the time, Scout thought, smiling again, but it didn't meet her eyes. Buddy smiled at her and reached for her, giving her a tight hug. "I love you. My favorite granddaughter."

"I'm your only granddaughter."

"My mistake," he teased. He got up from the picture seat, pulling her with him. "Let's go find your parents. See if they want to get dinner. I hear that Tami Taylor is wandering around here. Think I need to talk to her."

And I'm sure she's going to be running for the hills when she finds out you're looking for her, Scout thought; she'd heard stories about her grandfather and Mrs. Taylor. Should make for some decent dinner entertainment, she thought, breaking off from him in the living room and walking around to the study, where the door was open to the deck. She walked out, going down and to her parents, who were still talking.

At least they're not fighting. "Grandpa wants to get dinner," she said. "I was thinking Crabs. You should come Daddy." She wrapped her arms around him and felt him instantly wrap his arms around her in return. Her head rested on his shoulder. He was like a big tree.

Lyla smiled at her, cocking her head and then frowned slightly. "Are you okay?"

"Fine," she whispered. She was lying. She glanced up at her dad, who was also frowning at her. She cleared her throat. I'm a terrible liar. "I'm fine," she lied again, letting go of him and turning around, walking back to the house. I'm a terrible liar, she thought again, wincing at the look that both of her parents were giving her. They didn't believe her at all. I must have gotten it from them, she thought, closing the door behind her. That's how they know.


	9. Cloud Cover

**A/N: **Apologies in advance for the disjointedness of this chapter. I'm unable to really sit and write lately so it comes in bits and pieces. Like usual, things will come together in the end, it just takes awhile. Enjoy :)

* * *

**Chapter 9: Cloud Cover**

Someone upset my daughter.

I will kill this person, Tim thought, surveying Scout across the table, his beer bottle tilted slightly beneath his lips. He narrowed his eyes, watching her as she laughed at something that Tami said. They were all seated at two mismatched tables pushed together in the corner of the diner that he knew Lyla and Scout practically ate every single meal at. He was at the end, Lyla was on the other side of him, and Scout was in the middle, the center of attention as Julie, Tami, and Buddy all focused on her.

Good, he thought. Scout was an only child, but she was also one of the most selfless, good-hearted people who made everyone else around her feel like they were the important one. Even at sixteen. It was good she was getting some due, he thought, leaning forward and setting his beer bottle down, folding his arms and leaning on them, still watching her.

Something was off. She just wasn't smiling as wide. She seemed sad. He looked up when someone came over to take the empty bottle. "Would you like another, sir?" the kid asked. Tim narrowed his eyes to slits. Sir? When did I become sir? I'm thirty-four. "Yeah, sure," he said. He glanced at the kid's nametag. Wes.

He was about to ask for a different type of beer when there was a loud clatter coming from Scout. His head turned to her, to find out what the hell she just did, when he saw that she was almost hiding under the table. Lyla's eyes widened, staring at her and then darted towards the kid. Wes. Tim looked at Scout, the top of her head barely visible at the edge of the table and then to Wes, who looked like he'd rather be anywhere else.

No! He almost growled, pushing his chair back when Lyla spoke. "Thank you Wes, but I think he's done."

"Don't order for me," he snapped. You don't get to do that. We're not together. He couldn't understand why some of the things she'd done before really grated on him. Normally he didn't care. He ignored it or he just…he just didn't care. These past few years though…it's like his distaste for a few things she'd done had magnified tenfold. He was just…angry.

There are other things too, he thought. He looked back over at Scout. She popped her head up when Wes went away, her pale cheeks flushed pink and her dark hair sticking up in flyaways around her face. He grabbed Lyla's beer, finished it off and stood up. "I'm going for a walk. Scout, come with me."

"But I don't think…"

"Tim," Lyla warned, her voice soft. She lifted an eyebrow. "Don't do this."

Don't do what? He lifted his eyebrows, nodding his head to Wes, silently telling her that that was the reason for Scout's sadness the last few hours. He shrugged his coat on, watching Lyla's reaction. She darted her gaze around, before putting it together. They fought for a second, without saying a word. Our specialty, he thought. They could read each other perfectly over the last sixteen years. She finally caved, nodding slightly and waving her hand. Good, he thought. He lifted his fingers to Mrs. Taylor, waving bye. He knew she wanted to talk to him, but he was avoiding it as much as he was the conversation with Lyla. "See you later Mrs. Taylor."

"Tim," she simply said, giving him THAT look. The look that said that she was going to win and to stop avoiding her. "Have a good evening."

Tim followed Scout outside. "Where do you want to go?" he asked, walking down the sidewalk. Eastsound wasn't bad. Reminded him of a Dillon that faced the water. And was cold. He missed Dillon, he thought, shoving his hands deep into the pockets of his coat. "It's freezing."

"There's no sun. It's nighttime."

"It's just seven."

"It's wintertime Dad," she said.

Dad, he thought, smiling sideways. It still kind of freaked him out. Not like it was planned or anything. He shrugged. "We haven't spent much time together. It's been a week."

"Yeah, well you're fighting with Mom," she mumbled. She reached up, pulling on her braid. It was a nervous habit, he'd noticed. She always had her hair in a braid and she tugged on it more often than naught. She looked up, shrugging and continuing along the sidewalk, slightly faster than his lazy gait. "Why is Grandpa here?"

"You don't want your grandpa here?"

"I didn't say that."

No you didn't, my mistake. He didn't see what the problem was. It wasn't part of his…thought process. He didn't want Buddy here because it was going to mess with things, but Buddy probably thought he was helping. Buddy knew nothing. He was just going to cause problems, he thought, frustrated. I don't need to be refereeing Lyla and Buddy. "So what's with you?" he asked, changing the subject. "Why are you mad at that kid? Who the hell is that kid anyway?" He nudged her with his elbow, grinning. "He your boyfriend?"

"Shut up Dad, oh my God."

Guess that's a yes, he thought, lifting his eyebrows. He reached around, grabbing her around her shoulders, lifting her off the ground. She squealed, kicking her feet and laughing. "You have a boyfriend! My little girl has a boyfriend! Why're you mad at him? What'd he do? Do you need me to kill him?"

"Dad! Put me down!"

He dropped her back to the ground, but kept his arms around her, walking awkwardly behind her. I am not letting you go, he thought, turning his head a little to peer at her. She rolled her eyes upward, narrowing them. He went serious, the smile falling. "Seriously? What's going on? You were fine. Then you were under the table and not in a good way."

"Is there a good way to be under the table?" Never thought of it that way. Probably not. He didn't answer, his eyebrows lifting again. Don't change the subject. She sighed, shrugging and looking away, mumbling. "It's nothing. Just…we got in a fight. He's…" She flushed pink. "He's kind of…look…" She sighed, exasperated, weaseling out of his grip. "Mom doesn't know okay?"

Whoa. I know something that Lyla doesn't know about you? Did hell freeze over? He shoved his hands deep into his pockets, catching up to her as she turned a corner. He looked back at her, his lips forming a thin line. That wasn't good. They were best friends. He sighed. That was a problem, apparently. He looked down at his boots, his voice soft. "Why doesn't your mom know?"

"No reason."

"There's always a reason."

"Not for this." Scout stopped at the end of the street, which dropped off into almost a cliff, the water beating at the rocks on the bottom. She leaned on the railing, peering down. She waited a moment and then lifted her head back up again. Oh no, Tim thought, his mouth falling open slightly. The big green eyes that were just like his were filled with tears. Aw shit, he thought. What do I do? I don't do this.

The last time she cried around him was when she broke her arm when she was visiting him during the summer. She was six. He'd practically cried. It hurt a lot. "What…" He took a deep breath, reaching to awkwardly hold her. "What's going on?"

"I don't understand."

Understand what? I barely understand. He swallowed hard, his throat very dry. Don't screw this up Riggins. "Yeah…um…that Wes kid…he's probably a loser…"

"It's not about Wes! I'll get over Wes!" She pulled away from him, whipping her head around and instantly grabbing for her braid, pulling hard on it. Tears trickled down her cheeks, which were now bright red. "What I don't understand is you and Mom! It's been a week and all you do is fight and I heard you're selling your house!" She immediately covered her mouth with her hand, her gaze dropping to her feet.

How do you know that, he thought, narrowing his eyes at her. He sighed, closing his eyes briefly. "You were eavesdropping?" She did that.

"No."

"You suck at lying, kid." The one thing that your mother and I didn't pass on to you. We lie all the time. We lie about lying. He rolled his eyes up to the sky. What the hell was he supposed to say to that? Now he felt guilty. "I'm sorry," he whispered. For a lot of things. This whole thing was a mistake. I just didn't have anywhere else to go. He sighed, reaching for her again. She pulled away. He dropped his hand to his side, feeling even more awkward. "I'm sorry," he whispered. I really am, kid.

She pulled her arms around herself, hugging. Her eyes lifted up, her voice soft when she spoke. "I love your house."

"I love my house too." I just…he couldn't explain it. He swallowed hard, his throat tightening. "Baby, it's a house." That's what I tell myself. Not what it really is to me. He bit his lower lip and then sighed. "It's just a house. It's…it's a house. You're you. You…" I can't explain it. There's so much in my head right now. He closed his eyes tight, as though he could squeeze it out, but he couldn't. It was all there.

When he opened his eyes, he saw her walking off back to town. Damnit. "Hey, wait," he called, running to catch up with her. "Mary." She didn't listen, her pace quickening. Her rainboots began to splash up water and mud. He stopped, calling after her. "Mary Evangeline Riggins!"

She turned quickly, scowling back at him. "My last name isn't Riggins!" She walked backwards, her arms still wrapped tight around her. She was crying again. "And that's just one of the problems and…and I don't know anymore." She turned around and took off, running back towards the diner.

_You know you're a really terrible father, Tim. I used to think that it was the ones that weren't there at all, until I realized it's the ones that are there but they're not. The absent ones that are physically there. Like you. Pretty terrible._

Why can I remember that, but I can never remember anything else, he thought, gripping his hands through his hair. He let them fall back down to his side, watching her run off. Lyla walked out of the diner just then, looking at Scout's retreating back and then towards him. She scowled, turning and walking towards him. No, he thought, turning around. He began to walk quickly, hearing her splashing footsteps behind him.

No, no, no, he thought, beginning to run. He took off and heard her running after him. Until suddenly he felt like he was flying, stumbling forward as she flung her body against his, stopping him from practically falling over the railing at the end of the street. He turned quickly, Lyla's hands gripping his upper arms tightly. "What!" he shouted.

"Why is she upset?" she demanded. The look on her face was pure torture. She let it fall, her hands reaching up to push her hair out of her face. "Tim, I knew it. You have to go. This entire…" She jerked her hands between them. "This thing. You and me…we can't do this. You have to go back to Texas. She's lying to me and now she's upset…"

Lying isn't because of me. He shook his head, holding his hands up. Just freakign listen to me. "It's the boy! That's why she's upset."

"It's you!" Lyla shouted. She laughed, her eyes shining. "Tim, this has upset the balance in our lives. The balance that I work very hard to keep. I don't mind Julie and Mrs. Taylor here because they don't leave a path of destruction in their wake the way you do. They don't…they don't shatter…" she began to stammer, fighting for her words. "Shatter their daughter's hopes for them and…and they don't break my heart and…what?"

I don't know. What, he thought, staring at her. I'm just Tim Riggins. I'm the mess. I'm the pathetic mess. That's what you called me. "I'm the terrible father," he whispered. Tyra's words. Not yours. I know they're not your words, but it doesn't mean they're not true, he thought. He glanced away, moving quickly around her before she could stop him. "Stop it Lyla."

"Stop it!? You stop it! Stop saying that!"

"We're not talking about it." That's the last thing I want to do is have you try to shrink me or something. I already have Mrs. Taylor wanting to get inside my head. Tyra tries all the time. Messes with my life. He ignored his phone, which was buzzing in his back pocket. Seven again. Stupid Melanie, he thought, wanting to kill his ex-girlfriend. She was screwing with everyone now. Thought they were going to get married, he'd dumped her when she'd said she wanted to be Scout's "Mommy" and then she hadn't stopped hanging around. Guess Julie called at the wrong time, when she was trying to get her hooks into Matt.

Didn't he learn from high school or something, he thought, ignoring Lyla shouting after him again. He stopped in his tracks, whipping his head around, glaring at her. "Go away," he shouted.

"You go away!" she yelled.

"Nice comeback."

"You're being an immature asshole," she said. She crossed her arms over her chest, blowing her hair out of her eyes. She looked like Scout when she was frustrated. She sighed hard, looking around the town. She mumbled, lifting her eyes up to him. "People are staring."

"Because you're yelling."

"We have to get out of here. Come on." She took his upper arm, trying to lead him away, but he shook her off. Stop trying to…he wasn't even sure what she was doing. Lyla glared at him, but said nothing, leading him down the sidewalk. They walked for a few minutes, until he realized they were back at her house. She led them back through the gate, across the yard, and to the stairs to her stretch of beach. Guess we're right back where we started a few days ago.

I am not going to talk, he vowed. I have to go back to the house, iron out some more details with the bank, and then…then I don't know. Try to get my daughter to talk to me. The terrible father I am, he thought darkly. He went by Lyla, sinking down onto a rock, staring out at the ocean. This place isn't bad. "It's not Texas," he mumbled, more to himself than her.

But she thought that he was talking to her. "No, it's not, which is why you don't belong here."

"Neither do you," he replied. He glanced sideways; she was sitting cross-legged on the rock beside him, her hair falling out of its ponytail around her face. They weren't old. Still seemed like they were teenagers. Maybe I still am, he thought, narrowing his eyes on a big lump out in the ocean. "What's that?" he asked, pointing.

Lyla waved her hand, dismissive. "It's a whale."

"A whale!?"

"It's called Orcas Island, Tim. Enough about the whale." It's pretty cool, he thought, shrugging. Lyla sighed hard; more like a groan. "Tim, please, we have to stop this. We can't…can't fight and then kiss and then fight. Something is happening with our daughter. She's not a baby anymore Tim, she's sixteen. She's got boy problems now. She's trying to go to college and you can't come in and decide that you want to be a parent and take her back to Texas! You can't come in and upset our lives like this!" She kept going, because he began to tune her out, watching the whale in the water.

I wish I was a whale, he thought, cocking his head slightly and watching as it surfaced for water, air pushing up over the top of the waves, like a puff of smoke. It was alone, which he thought was weird. Didn't they travel in packs? Oh well. He leaned back on his elbows on the rock, dropping his feet. He closed his eyes, feeling the cool air on his face.

"Tim."

Come on Lyla. Just let this one go. Don't swing at every single one. He opened his eyes, staring back at the whale. Guess we do need to talk. "What?" he murmured.

"Why do you think you're a terrible father? I told you the other night you're not." She sighed, leaning a little closer to him, her voice dropping to a whisper. "Because seeing as I'm the mother of your child, I get to be the judge of that."

"You'll just lie," he said.

Lyla snorted. "I don't lie to you." He glared at her; you don't lie to me? You kept me in the dark for two years. She shook her head, whispering. "Tim I didn't lie. I didn't tell you about her. Omission."

"Splitting wires, Lyla."

She smiled slightly, her lips pursing. "Splitting hairs is the saying."

"Whatever."

They sat quietly, until she groaned again, her hands falling down to slap on the rock. "Tim, please, please, I have to know what is going on inside your head if you ever want to…" she caught herself, just as he turned his head slowly to peer at her. Finish that sentence Garrity, he thought, glaring at her. I dare you. She kept her gaze on his, her voice soft and slow. "If you ever want her to have the same relationship with you that she does with me."

What? Best friends? We're friends. She's my daughter. "She's my kid," he said, feeling defensive. "We're fine."

"I know you're fine."

I want to see her more. I feel like I'm missing something when she's not with me. I don't want to do anything. I don't want to work; I don't want to hang out with any of my so-called friends. Girlfriends didn't even matter to him anymore. They just were there, he contemplated marriage for about five minutes, and then found something to use to break up with them. Usually their distaste for kids. Or their overwhelming desire for them.

He closed his eyes, thinking back on Tyra's harsh words. His eyes opened again. She wasn't in a good place when she said them, but that didn't mean they weren't true. He sighed, whispering. "Tyra told me I was a terrible father. Said that I was one of the worst ones because I was there but not there."

"Oh my God."

Don't hate her. She's kind of right. He lifted his shoulder, whispering. "She's right. I want Scout when I want her. I never see her. I just…" he sighed, speaking louder. "What do you want me to say Lyla?"

Lyla drew her knee to her chest, wrapping her arm around it, frowning deeply. She licked her lips, her forehead smoothing out as the frown faded. "I want you to say why you're selling your dream house. I want you to say it Tim. Tell me. That's your life."

"Shouldn't be." He rolled his eyes upwards to her again. It was impossible to explain. He shook his head, whispering. "Billy…I let him run the business for a few weeks. I needed a break. Came back after being drunk for a month and…and I'd lost all my clients. He'd decided to treat it like a learning opportunity, he said." He'd practically killed him. Billy wanted to teach him a lesson, so he'd half-assed everything…taught me not to trust my brother. Again. He hadn't spoken to him for months. Spent it all getting drunk and trying to get clients back. He sighed again. "I had a hard time with it. Then the bank called. Took a lot of my equipment back. Couldn't pay the bills. Lost my new truck. Had to get rid of that. Then all the rest of the money I took from them to start the business…they needed that too."

"So you sold the house," she finished.

So I sold the house. He didn't want to do it. He just…it was also time. "I can't have it be just a house," he said, speaking more to himself than her. "I have to do something for the kid, you know? It was all the house. It was all it was and…and it shouldn't have been."

I don't know what I'm saying, he thought. It was so jumbled. Lyla frowned again. "Tim…how do you think selling the one thing you actually love and…and fought for…how do you think that is going to convince me that you're a good dad? That you deserve Scout for summers on end? It's not what you are. You're more than it, but...but it is still a piece of you. You can't get rid of it."

"And I shouldn't be," he exclaimed. That was the point. Maybe it didn't make sense, but it kind of did to him. Life had been a mess for him. He sat up farther, scowling at her. "I should be a dad and not…not love my house more than my kid!"

Lyla screamed, stomping her feet on the rock. "Oh my God! Tyra is an idiot for saying that to you, I am going to kill her!" She jumped off the rock, turning in a circle for a second before shouting again. "What's she even doing talking to you about our kid anyway?"

I'm not getting into me and Tyra and what we talk about, especially with you. Maybe it came at a right time. Tyra had barged into his house, found him passed out, and said what she said. It made sense. He rolled his eyes. "It's not Tyra! She's right! She didn't have a dad, I didn't have a dad, and here I am laying around Texas doing nothing for my kid!"

"And that's what this is about?" Lyla laughed. She groaned again, pushing her hands through her hair. "Tim, I am the only one that gets to judge you on your relationship with Scout. I know you love her. Okay? Could you be around more than you are? Yes. Do I know that you won't because you don't want to move to Washington? Yes. Do I wish…" she trailed off, her eyes focused on his. She frowned, shaking her head slightly. "Forget it," she breathed.

Forget what, he thought, frowning at her. He shook his head, turning and looking back at the whale. What the hell was it still doing out there? He turned his head again, looking at her still standing in the sand. He swallowed hard. Do you wish what Lyla? "What do you want?" he asked, frowning. He laughed. Because I sure as hell don't know. "Lyla I thought my life was fine. I was fine. I got better I…then you just…"

"Tim," she interrupted. She walked over to him, leaning back against the rock. She sighed, her voice quiet. "I am going to be paying for what I did my entire life. I didn't tell you that you had a child and I'm so sorry for that. I told you. It had nothing to do with whether or not I thought you were going to be a good father." She swallowed hard, tears tracking down her face again. "Tim, if I'd told you in prison do you really think that you'd be here today? Standing here with me?"

Do I think that I'd be alive or something? He didn't understand what she was trying to say. He pushed his hand up to his forehead again. "What are you saying?" he asked, laughing slightly. "I was in jail. I wasn't dead." We've already had this fight, he thought idly. Third time already this trip.

Lyla hopped back up beside him on the rock. Her shoulder lightly touched his, her hands folded in her lap. "Tim," she said, pausing. She turned her head slightly, her voice quiet. "I was nineteen. I was alone. I was pregnant. I found out you went to jail."

"Lyla I'm not doing this again."

"Please let me finish." Fine. She continued, her voice blunt and to the point. "My thought process was that if I told you, you might crumble. I didn't even know if I was going to keep Scout until she was born, Tim."

What the hell? He whipped his head sideways, staring at her, his eyes widening. He…he swallowed hard, visible and his throat constricting. "You were going…" He paused. Oh my God. She stared back at him, her eyes crinkling slightly in a sad smile. "You were going to give her away?"

"Tim I was nineteen."

"You couldn't do that! What about me?"

"What about you?" she whispered. She smiled sadly again. "Tim I didn't give her up for adoption. I was thinking about it until they put her in my arms. I changed my mind. I could do it. It would be just us. The two of us. The Garrity girls," she chuckled. She continued. "Tim I didn't tell you because I wanted you to live your life. I was wrong, okay? I was horribly wrong by not telling you, but my dad was telling me how good you were. How happy and good and you were doing so well and I didn't want you to…to have a breakdown again or something."

I didn't have a breakdown, he thought angrily. He shook his head, his eyes closing. "Lyla. I'm tired. Can we please just stop?" I don't even want to talk about this again. Ever again if we can help it. He closed his eyes again. "I love Scout, can we leave it at that please?"

Lyla didn't seem to want to listen. Not like it was the first time. Wouldn't be the last. "Tim, you think you're a horrible father because someone made a comment. Could you have been more involved in her childhood? Yes. Do you…do you float in and out when you feel like it and does it hurt her? It hurts her terribly. It hurts me."

You could move back to Texas, he thought, closing his eyes again and taking another deep breath of cold air. He opened his eyes, frowning at the sight of another whale now out on the horizon. He could see the fins sticking up from the water. "Lyla," he said. He waited, but she didn't interrupt or say anything. Good. He reached his hand over, squeezing it. "What were you going to say?"

She sighed, shrugging. She turned her head slightly, looking up at the house and then back out to the ocean. "I was going to say," she said, her voice quiet. She shrugged again. "I was going to say that I wish we could be together. It'd be easier."

Not if we fought all the time. "You're happy here," he said.

"I am happy here. I'm happy with my life." She smiled again, whispering. "I wish that we could be together though. For Scout. We love each other." Have to be careful with that word, he thought. It got them into a lot of trouble. She squeezed his hand harder. "I don't like fighting with you. Even joking fighting. It hurts too much."

Then we should stop fighting. He squeezed her hand tightly. "We're married."

"No we're not, I told you."

We said the vows. It means something when you say the words. He swallowed hard, something kind of releasing off his shoulderblades. I don't hold grudges. That's not who I am. I don't like feeling like this. Confused and…and wandering around. Usually I am but I don't like it. "I want to give you the rest of the money from the house," he said. He decided it just then and there. He let go of her hand, looking down at the sand. The least I could do, right? After sixteen years? She didn't say anything. "My life isn't how I wanted it Garrity. It's a mess and you're right. It's a pathetic mess." He sighed hard. "I'm sorry about what I said. Five years ago."

She nodded slightly. "Me too. I'm sorry." She bit her lower lip. "Tim, you keep your money. Build another house. Find more land. You don't have to sell your house to show me that you're capable or…or anything." He didn't say anything. Coming to that decision killed him. It made him want to just…to scream at the top of his lungs, which he never wanted to do. He'd screwed up yet again. She leaned her head on his shoulder. "If you have to do it for money reasons then…then I know you didn't do it lightly, but you don't owe me anything. You don't need to give me child support or anything. I never asked you for it and I never will."

And if you ask if you can give me money, he silently threatened. Thankfully, she knew him, and kept her mouth closed on that matter. He squeezed her hand again. "I don't like fighting with you," he repeated.

"Then why do you do it?" she chuckled.

Because what else are we going to do? How else am I going to get your attention, he thought. Might be childish. It was childish. He shrugged, whispering. "Because the other option…it's just not going to work out."

Lyla lifted her face to his, her forehead wrinkled. "You can be in her life Tim. I don't know what you want."

"I don't know what you want," he fired back.

She didn't say anything. Tim looked back out at the whales. They were gone. He sighed again; they were done talking, good. Until Lyla spoke again, but he didn't say anything. "You're not a horrible father. Or terrible father. You're just…you're you Tim. I know that doesn't always mean…mean that you're going to be around when sometimes you probably could be. I don't hate you for it or anything, it just frustrates me when I see it affecting Scout."

Guilt stabbed into his stomach. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders, kissing the top of her head. It was the most affectionate they'd been without wanting to kill each other since he showed up a week ago. "All seriousness," he mumbled into her hair. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath and silently vowing. It was different from here on out. "I'm going to try."

"Don't sell your house. Please."

I don't want to do it, he thought, closing his eyes tighter. Don't have much of a choice anymore. He let go of her and hopped off the rock, looking back up at the house. Scout was leaning on the deck. He lifted his fingers, waving. She smiled down at them and waved before turning around.

It's different now, Tim vowed to himself, glancing at Lyla, who was still rooted in her spot on the rock. He left her alone, trudging up to the house. He wanted to go talk to Scout, to explain, when Tami stepped out of the house. "Mrs. Taylor," he greeted her.

Tami arched her eyebrow. "We need to talk Tim." She smiled brightly, her arms crossing over her chest. "But first, you will explain to me why you seem to know more about what's going on with my son-in-law than my daughter does. Let's go get a drink. Come along now."

Tim gulped. Yeah. Great. A drink with Mrs. Taylor. This wasn't going to end well.


	10. Thawing Out

**A/N:**This chapter goes with chapter 9, so it's best to read them together just to tget it all out of the way. Enjoy :)

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**Chapter 10: Thawing Out**

Oh my God, Lyla thought, leaning back into the pillows on her bed. She stared at her computer screen, her eyes closing in exhaustion. I didn't think that your brain could hurt, she thought, rubbing her palm over her forehead. She smiled, opening her eyes and staring at the screen. The writer's block was all but gone. The storyline was broken down for the next book and she was well on her way to beating Julie's new proposed deadline for it.

There, no one will have to know I deleted the original, she thought, saving the document one last time before she closed the lid. She glanced at the clock on her nightstand. "Holy crap," she mumbled. It was well past three in the morning. I'm not going to be a pleasant person tomorrow. She set the computer aside and stood up, climbing off the bed. She shoved her feet into a pair of her shearling boots, walking as quietly as she could across the floor and to the stairs.

With her father in the house, Tim had moved out of the guest room and into the study, sleeping on the day bed that pulled out from her picture window. She brought her computer with her, setting it on the desk and then walking over to sit on the edge of the small bed. He was crammed up against the window, buried under the pillow and blanket.

Their conversation earlier had been a real eye-opener, but she was stil slightly confused with him. He was all over the place. Manic. Aggressive one moment and then passive the next. Immature, almost always. Sullen. Giggling. It was hard to tell who this Tim was, but she thought hse might finally have it all figured out. It sounded like he was swinging from one emotion to the next because he wasn't sure how he was supposed to feel about what was happening in his life.

"Welcome to the real world," she mumbled, her hand going to his knee. She yelped when a pillow went flying in her direction, almost knocking her off the bed. "Geez!"

Tim sat up, his hair in all directions. "What's going on?" he mumbled; his voice was thick with sleep. He scrubbed at his face, picking up the phone beside him. "Oh damn. Why're you here?"

"I was putting my computer away."

"Good for you, leave me alone," he whined, crawling back underneath the covers again. No, Lyla thought. You're awake now. I'm still running on adrenaline from typing about 100 pages in the last couple of hours. My head is spinning even though my body is already shutting down. He waited a moment beneath the covers and then lowered the blanket, looking back over at her. "What'd you write about me?"

She smiled. She'd done something different. Something she hadn't done before with the Rose and Tommy series. "You'll see," she whispered. She reached over and pulled on a lock of his hair. "Your hair is really long. Do you want me to cut it?"

"Why are you being nice?"

Because I think we're at our stalemate, she thought. Because we already talked and…and I think I understand. I've decided to let go of some of this. Provided you do as well. "Because the alternative, we agreed, we don't like." She moved a little closer to him, drawing her legs beneath her and wrapping her arms around her knees. "I was thinking…once you…once you figure out a place to live…" She sighed hard, closing her eyes. This was hard, but…she had no reason to fight it. "I was thinking…if Scout likes it…this Christmas…maybe…" She glared at him, to get the seriousness of her point across. "Maybe…maybe…"

"Could you stop saying maybe?"

"Maybe," she stressed again. She smiled slightly. "Maybe I will let her go to your house for Christmas for the entire break. Not just a couple days." She held her finger up when his eyes lit up. "But…" she stressed again, sighing hard. Damn Tim. I hate having to be like this. "But you need to show to me that you're getting your life together."

"Getting my life together?" he echoed, his voice cool.

She nodded. Yes. "I'm sorry I said you were pathetic," she said. She shrugged slightly. "But Tim you're in debt. You're losing your business and instead of doing anything about it, you ran to Washington. You're not talking to Billy who seems to be involved in screwing things up again. My dad is chasing you up to Washington for some reason, do you owe him money?"

Tim rolled his eyes. "No. He owes me, believe it or not. I spotted him a few grand for the bar."

Holy shit, I was kidding, she thought, her eyes widening. "My father owes you money? He knows you're in debt and you have to sell your home, the home you built and…"

"I'm selling because your dad's money isn't going to cover things." He dropped his eyes down to his fingers, which he was twisting around the edge of the blanket. His voice dropped with his gaze. "And I told you, the house is something else too. I just…just need to do something different."

That house isn't something different. I've seen you there. I know. She took a deep breath, slowly letting it out through pursed lips. She bit her lower lip. "Tim. Tyra told me once you wanted to run away from Texas. You actually ran away this time." You're running away from actually having to regroup. She shook her head again, whispering. "I was nineteen and I was pregnant, Tim. I wanted to run away so much. This isn't the same. I'm not comparing the two, but please don't do this. You'll regret it forever if you do."

And I don't want you to regret anything, it's not what you do anyway, she thought, smiling at his slight frown. "No regrets," he mumbled, turning the blanket tighter in his fingers. He looked up at her. "You don't regret anything you've done with Scout? Nothing?"

Lyla took a deep breath, shaking her head. No. I don't. "I maintain that not telling you until she was older allowed you a chance to get your life on track," she said. She quirked her lip up. "You can choose to believe it or you can keep always having a piece of you hate me. Just like a piece of me will, even though I don't regret it, a piece of me will always wonder if I had told you. Then I realize that we'd be living a very different life."

I don't hate you. I have never hated you. Tim fell back into the pillows behind him, closing his eyes and reaching his arm behind his head. He opened his eyes, taking a deep breath. His voice cracked slightly. "I don't hate you Garrity. You have…"

"I've ruined it," she mumbled. She leaned back a little against his legs, drawing hers tighter beneath her. She looked up at the ceiling. "Right?"

"No."

"Come on," she said, glancing sideways at him. He was watching her, his eyes dark and shadowed from her view. She couldn't tell what he was thinking if she could see them anyways, so she supposed it didn't matter. "I'm Lyla Garrity. I…I made you do things you didn't want to do and…and I left you and…and I'm sorry Tim but I'd do it again. I don't care what you say but I would do everything over again the same way. I would force you to go to college, but I would let you drop out without a word and I would…I would leave…why are you smiling?"

"Because. You're funny."

She rolled her eyes; not in the mood. "I'm funny?" she echoed, glaring at him. "I'm being serious right now. You know what? I'm done, I'm going to bed…" She went to get up, but Tim grabbed her by her arm, pulling her back against him. She caught herself before she went tumbling over him, her hand pressed to his shoulder. Shit. Don't do it Lyla, no matter what your hormones want, she instantly thought. She bit her lower lip, staring at him.

Tim smiled again. The lights were on outside around the deck, lighting up his face a little bit more, now that she was closer to him. "I don't hate you," he said. He smiled briefly. "You've kind of…" He sighed, shaking his head. "I thought that I'd only see you on breaks and…and that'd be it. Then all that stuff happened and…" He sighed hard. "I guess you've just kind of…been there more than I thought you would be and sometimes…God, Garrity it's annoying."

"Annoying?"

"Very annoying. I hear you in my head sometimes when I want to do something and…and then I hear you yelling or being mad and I just…" He sighed again, shrugging. His voice dropped to a soft, reflective tone. "I guess if you'd never come back that break…Scout would be here. She is the best thing that's happened to me. Even if…it's been kind of messed up."

This is the Tim that I know and love, she thought, smiling warmly at him. "Good."

"I'm not going to college," he said, almost vowing. "And I'm never going to make a million dollars. I'm always going to be a screwup."

You don't have to be so fatalistic. She shrugged again. "Just start coming back down from whatever spiral you've been on Tim. Maybe coming here was good for you, but you need to go back to Texas to really calm down."

"Spiral?"

She lifted her eyebrow, quirking her lip up. "Yeah. Spiral. You've been crazy weird."

"I've been like always."

"No, you haven't. I know you and I didn't know this Tim that I've been seeing the last week." It's good that now I have an in, because…because it's really helped me too. She reached for his face, kissing him lightly. She pulled away before anything happened. "I'm going to bed."

Tim sat up farther, looking around her as the door pushed open slightly. Artemis walked in, hopping up onto the bottom of the bed. "Since when did you ever like dogs?" he asked.

"I love dogs," she said, slightly defensive. "Besides, Scout wanted her, so I bought her."

"You get everything Scout wants?"

"Yes."

They both looked up, seeing Scout leaning against the door. "Hey Boo," Tim said, sitting even farther up, moving away from her. "What's going on?"

"Boo?" Scout echoed, smiling. Boo, that's what he called her as a baby sometimes, Lyla thought. She couldn't remember much; he wasn't around those first couple of years after he found out. Too devastated and trying to regroup. "Haven't called me that since I was a baby. Besides, I'm Scout, Mom didn't go for the Boo Radley part of that book."

Tim frowned, glancing at her. "Boo Radley? Who is that?"

"Oh my God, you totally had someone read that book for you," Lyla mumbled. She pushed at his knee. "I knew you didn't really get an 88 on that test."

He snorted. "Of course not."

Scout frowned, sitting Indian-style, her arms pulling her sweater tight around her. "I heard you guys talking. It's early, why are you guys talking?"

Lyla sighed. "You were eavesdropping again." You should grow up to be a spy or something, if you weren't so terrible at lying. "Scout, seriously."

"No," she lied, her cheeks turning pink. She mumbled, reaching to pull on her braid. "Wasn't eavesdropping."

"Where did we go wrong?" Tim wondered, looking over at her and smiling slightly. He shrugged. "Or maybe right."

I think we did pretty well, despite all the challenges, she thought, smiling back at him. She reached over and pulled lightly on Scout's braid. "You feeling any better? You were quiet the rest of the night after that little incident outside the diner." You're probably not going to talk about it with me in front of your dad. Maybe not ever. Which I hate. We talk about everything. We're best friends, she thought, frowning briefly. "Scout?"

She sighed, looking up and glanced at both of them. "Um…we can talk later, but…but I'm okay. Dad, did you talk to Mrs. Taylor? She was looking for you. I went to bed before I could find you."

That's where you went, she thought. Once they finished their talk on the beach, she'd gone straight to her computer, told Julie she'd have something for her soon, and locked herself away. Even though Julie looked like she could have cared less about the book. I should talk to her, she thought, making a mental note. I'll talk to her tomorrow. She had to read some of the early pages.

Lyla frowned a little. "You talked to Mrs. Taylor? About what?"

"Nothing," he said. He ruffled Artemis's ears. His eyes met hers, glancing at Scout, who was scratching the dog's neck. Oh, okay. Not around the kid. Tim looked over at Scout again. "You going to be awake awhile?"

"I don't know. Why?"

"Slap contest. Bets on or off?"

Her eyes widened. "On."

Okay, I'm going to bed, she thought, shaking her head and getting up as Tim and Scout squared off, holding their hands up and out. "You guys are going to hurt yourselves," she said, pulling one of the blankets off the bottom of the bed and folding it back as they stared at each other and then suddenly Scout slapped her hands hard on his, forcing him back. "Geez Scout," she said, hearing the crack of skin on skin. "Lay up."

"Not fair, you didn't warn me."

"That's the point Dad."

"Again."

They waited a second, staring, until Tim blew in Scout's face and slapped his hands towards hers, but she was fast, giggling and drawing her hands out quickly, so all he got was air. "I win!"

Lyla shook her head, leaving them to their game, walking back up to her room. She bypassed the guest room, her dad leaning out. "Everything okay?" he asked, yawning.

She nodded, pausing at the bottom step to her room. Her eyes lifted to his. Buddy blinked, clueless. "We're getting Tim's house back," she vowed. He was going to kill her if he knew that that's what she wanted to do. He wouldn't accept it, but she didn't really care. She pointed her finger into his shoulder. "Daddy, you're paying him back all the money you borrowed plus interest. You're calling whoever is buying that house…what?"

Buddy smiled slightly. His voice was quiet. "The buyer is in a blind trust. Tim doesn't know who is behind it."

She shrugged. "Who is the buyer?" Buddy smiled, taking a deep breath. He didn't say anything, but pointed his finger at himself and then at her. What the hell was he talking about? She cocked her head, frowning. "Dad? What do you mean?"

"Remember," he began, widening his eyes slightly. "When you told me about the book thing? When you made that money on the first one? We put it in a trust? You and me and I put Scout on it too. That's the one buying the house. He has no idea. It's through the bank too, so he's keeping clueless."

So wait…she frowned again. I'm not getting this. "So I'm buying his house?" she murmured. "What are you doing Daddy?" A rise of ire bubbled in her throat. "You didn't…Daddy do you realize…oh my God!" You're getting involved where you shouldn't be involved.

"What? I thought you'd be happy about this!"

Of course you did because you don't think. "Daddy I can't talk about this now," she said, pointing to his room. "You go to bed." She turned around, ignoring his protests that this was a good thing and she would see that it was a good thing. She closed the door behind her, walking over to the window. For a moment she considered actually going to sleep, but now she was still wired. She turned around and went back downstairs, crossing into Scout's bedroom. I will find out about this Wes guy, but on her time, she thought; she trusted her daughter.

That wasn't why she was in Scout's room anyway. Lyla lowered herself to the loose floorboard on the other side of the bed, lifting it up and set it aside. She stretched out on the cold floor, folding her head on her hands and smiled, listening to Tim and Scout laugh about something down in the study.


	11. Raindrops

**A/N:**Thanks for the reviews; sorry this hasn't been updated as fast as my other fics, I usually have a padding of five or six chapters before I start posting, but this time I didn't and I kind of lost the time to write recently, but hopefully I will have it completed soon. I also want to work on the Tyra story from "Waiting for Superman." Anyway, we'll see what the FNL/Parenthood crossover websiode with Landry and Billy has to say for where FNL characters might be now, if they say at all. That might kill or increase my motivation to write more fic, haha.

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**Chapter 11: Raindrops**

Tami dropped off the bottom stair in Lyla's house, turning the corner and bumping into Tim. She grabbed his arm before he had a chance to turn around, pointing to Julie, who was sitting outside on the deck, in the middle of a rare, bright sunny day, reviewing pages. "Go out there and tell her."

"Mrs. Taylor…"

"Do it," she ordered. She let go of him, shaking her head. Honestly. Tim was highly intelligent when he felt like it. The problem was, he didn't like feeling it as often as she wished he would. She fell back, her hands going to her hips, watching him scowl. He was holding a folder in his hands, which he set on the table. He glared at her and then at the folder, before walking out onto the deck.

Good. When Tim told her at the bar about how Matt was staying at the house just for a "break" he'd been told and that his ex-girlfriend a total "dipsy" as he'd described some girl called Melanie, was around the house, poor Matt was just at his wits-end trying to get her out of the house while trying to think about his marriage and then Julie happened to overhear Melanie in the background and jumped to the wrong conclusion.

_"Who is this Melanie?" she demanded. "Is she someone that you were serious with?"_

_Tim laughed, shaking his head. "No, she's a coffee maker person in town, she's completely empty upstairs, and I realized that too late." _

_You need smart women, Tami thought. The dipsy girls were fun for a few nights, but she knew that Tim needed, no wait, he craved, a woman that actually had a head on her shoulders. Whether that was because he wanted someone to basically take care of him or because he just liked frustrating them, Tami wasn't sure. Tim wasn't stupid; he had moments, but he wasn't stupid, she thought. "So why is she even there," she asked. _

_"Because knowing her she didn't pay her rent. She's a leech. She's dipsy, but she's smart at getting what she wants. She probably thought she could crash there while I was gone and she'd be out before I got back and kicked her out for good. Matt happened to be there at the wrong time and it's Saracen, Mrs. Taylor. You know him."_

_I do know Matt. Matt was a sweet guy who really had no idea how to be forceful or mean with someone until he was pushed into a corner; even if you had to be like that in some situations. He was probably trying to convince her politely to leave, but was getting run over nonstop. "So will you call this Melanie and tell her to leave?" Tami placed her phone in front of him on the bar, tapping her fingernail on it. She arched an eyebrow. "Right. Now."_

So Tim had made the phone call, but she wasn't sure if it had taken. Julie had gone to bed early after they'd gotten back to the bed and breakfast where they were staying and she wasn't sure if she'd even tried to reach out to Matt. Trust your husband, she wanted to tell her daughter, but she'd learned early on that Julie could only learn from her own mistakes and lecturing her wasn't going to work. Especially when it came to being married.

Tami watched as Tim gestured towards the beach; that beach is getting a workout with conversations, she thought, watching Julie set the book into her folder, leaving it on the bench and following Tim. "Good," she said out loud. Hopefully it got her daughter on the same page with her husband. She didn't even really know what was going on with the two of them anyway, but she didn't want to pry.

Well okay, she really wanted to pry, but Eric had told her that she had to let Julie come to her. "Remember when she was a teenager?" he'd reminded her. Yeah, yeah. She walked over to the table, looking down at the folder Tim had left. Don't touch it, she thought, running fingers over it. Don't do it…

"Oh who is it going to hurt?" she wondered out loud, picking up the folder. She flicked through the papers. House sale stuff. Poor thing. He'd told her that he didn't want to do it, but he was trying to prove to Lyla that he could…move beyond Texas. Something tells me this isn't what she had in mind, Tami thought, flicking up the paperwork. She frowned, staring at the purchaser information. "831 Investments," she mumbled. Did Tim know who was buying his house? Why did that name sound familiar?

Tami put the papers down, looking up when the door to Lyla's study opened. "Hey there sweetheart, would you like something to eat?" she asked, opening up Lyla's fridge as the other woman practically crawled into the kitchen. "I can make you a sandwich."

"No, no food, coffee." Lyla almost grunted, pouring herself a cup of coffee and shaking her hair back. She rubbed at her forehead, her eyes squinting. "I'm almost done."

"Almost done with what?"

"My book." Lyla turned around, with her full cup of coffee, and returned to her study, where she'd been locked away the last couple of days.

Where were Buddy and Scout? Oh well, probably for the best that the house wasn't full. Tami left the papers on the table, going out and onto the deck. She sat down on a chair, crossed her legs, and leaned back, looking out at the ocean. "Beautiful," she said. Bored, she thought. I'm bored. I need entertainment.

She picked up Julie's folder, flicking it over and taking the pages into her hands. Tami cocked her head, reading the main page. "A Little Piece of Heaven," she read. "A novel by Timothy Scout." She shook her head, looking up when Lyla came back out of the house, a little more cleaned up than she'd been a moment before. She lifted it up. "I will never get over your pseudonym."

"The critics say that there's no way a man can write Rose's perspective so convincingly and that I have to be a woman," Lyla said, smiling. She sat down across from her, nodding to the pages. "How many red marks are there? I feel like I'm in AP English again with Dr. Wells."

Tami flicked through several pages. "Not many," she said. There was actually a lot of red marks. She stopped on one of the pages, turning them over so she didn't lose Julie's place. She frowned, studying the writing. "Oh."

"I know."

"This is…"

"I know."

She looked up at Lyla, who was just smiling, her eyes closed and lifted to the sunlight. She smiled, quirking her lip upward. "You wrote it in the first person. Each chapter. You've never done that before."

"I know."

The three Rose and Tommy books were from the third person's perspective. It was a novel, a story of two people. Objective. Which was what made it so heartbreaking in most parts, because the reader didn't know what the characters were thinking from time to time unless Rose and Tommy said so. This was…Tami began to read one of the paragraphs. Tommy's perspective, as he saw Rose again for the first time in a few weeks.

You're rewriting history, she thought, turning the page and delving into Rose's perspective. She flicked through some more pages and finally went to the very end. The last chapter in the first half of the book was Rose finding out she was pregnant. She looked up at Lyla, who was watching her. "You're rewriting history," she stated.

"Not necessarily." Lyla lowered her hand, shrugging. "I'm just…making it understandable."

"Tim doesn't read books Lyla."

"He'll read the last chapter of this one," she whispered. She looked over her shoulder, fiddling with her fingers. "I'm letting Scout go to Texas this Christmas. Once he gets his life on track."

"I think he's honestly trying."

Lyla nodded. She sighed hard, looking up at the sky. "My trust is buying Tim's house and I didn't know it because my Dad has a controlling interest."

"Oh my God." She paused; the most surprising thing of that statement was not that she was buying Tim's house. "You let Buddy have a controlling interest in anything?"

"I know, right?" Lyla chuckled. She leaned back in the chair she was relaxing in, shrugging her shoulders. "I have no idea how I am supposed to tell Tim. I told him I'd do what I could to help…I was planning on trying to contact the person, have them drop out, but then I find out it's my dad? My trust? Yeah. No idea how that's going to come up." She groaned, scrubbing her face. "Now we're finally in a good place for the first time in five years."

Something happened awhile ago, didn't it? Tami got up, walking over to sit beside her and patted her knee. She'd gotten that from Tim in the bar. He hadn't said much on it.

_Tami set her drink down on the bar, leaning forward, her arms folded in front of her. "Tim," she said, shaking her head, sighing. I need to know. "What happened five years ago? Scout told me that you haven't talked to Lyla in five years until this trip."_

_"It was just us being us Mrs. Taylor," he said, silencing her further on the issue. _

That didn't stop her and she tried to get a little more out of him, tried to mention Scout, but all Tim kept saying was that it was just them being them and nothing more. Whatever that was supposed to mean.

All she had to do was wait before Lyla was spilling her guts on how they'd drunkenly got married, found out it wasn't real, and said nasty things to each other. "We're kind of in a good place," she cried, wiping at her eyes. She sniffed. "But Scout isn't really talking to me and Tim is still trying to figure out his life and…I feel like I'm the one who is always trying to hold it together and I've done that so many times before and I just can't keep doing it. I'm writing like a maniac and now it's all coming out!"

It happens like that, Tami thought, nodding along and patting Lyla's shoulders, comforting her like they were sitting in her guidance counselor office again. "Tim will be okay," she told her. She'd gotten that from their talk. She smiled; if he wans't planning on telling Lyla his plans, she wasn't going to take that from him.

_"You need a job Tim. You tried the handyman thing, but you're not really a business owner. Maybe not yet. Have you considered Dillon Tech? Maybe get a trade degree? Something like electrician or…"_

_"I'm not cleaning out people's houses anymore," Tim vowed. He smiled, pretty firm in his decision to not get a degree of any sort. He'd shaken his head, sipping his beer. "I'm not going to college. Not for me." _

_"But you surely are thinking of something, aren't you?"_

_"I have a hobby. Thinking I might make it real. Now that my probation, parole, whatever the hell it is, now that that's gone." He smirked. "I can touch cars again."_

So he told her what he was thinking about; she had to admit, it was fairly ambitious. Still childlike, but Tim was always going to be a big kid. _"Just get your life on track Tim," she told him, as he paid for the drinks without her having to prod him or suggest it. They left the bar and went to his truck. "You have a child. You've had her for sixteen years, whether you knew or not or were there or not. We need to be examples for our children."_

_"Scout's example is her mother," he said; mumbled, more like. Kind of sad, she thought, sitting beside him in the truck a moment later. He wasn't turning it on, just staring out the windshield. He sighed, shrugging and glanced sideways. "Her example is always going to be her mother."_

_"And you are always going to be her father. The father that isn't her life all the time, who she adores and rarely sees. You have as much influence as Lyla does, whether you are there or not and often Tim," she said, continuing with the slight lecture. "Often it's the fact that you're not there that has more influence. Think of your relationship with your father. You loved him because he wasn't there for you to see."_

_"I hate my father."_

_"You don't hate him," she chided. "You're disappointed in him. Believe me, if you own up to your mistakes and you find what you want out of life, if you start to come out of your debt and you face life again, like you have had to do before, then Scout will be proud of you."_

_"Lyla thinks that she'll hate me one day."_

_She was already shaking her head. "No. No, Lyla just doesn't ever want Scout to feel for you what you feel for your father. It's why she lets you stay here. It's why she allows you to do what you do with Scout, because she just wants her happy." _

Tami glanced at Lyla again, her lips pursing for a moment. She frowned slightly. "Did Tim talk to you about what he was planning on doing when he returned to Texas?"

"Dig my grave when he finds out that I'm buying his house?"

She chuckled, shaking her head. "No."

Lyla shrugged, getting up from the chair and picking up the coffee cup she'd set on the table beside her. She sipped it and then turned slightly, looking down at her. "I don't really care what it is so long as it is legal, doesn't get him into trouble, doesn't get him into further debt, and he enjoys himself. That's all." She shrugged, her voice soft. "I want my daughter to be proud of her dad. There are times where I don't know if Tim realizes that. Then I realize that it's probably all he thinks about most days."

Yes, you would be right. Unfortunately for Tim, he didn't figure it out until he'd done something wrong or he'd upset someone. Tami watched Lyla turned around, going back into the house, ostensibly to finish her book. She looked up when there were footsteps behind her, seeing Julie coming back up. "How did it go?" she asked. She looked over at Tim, who was sneaking around the house. Avoiding me Riggins? You're such a scaredy-cat, I don't bite. Much. She looked up at Julie, focusing her attention. "Did he talk to you?"

"Yeah," she mumbled, sitting in Lyla's vacated chair. She tucked her hair behind her ear, looking up, her face stony, masking any emotion. I wish you would talk to me, she thought, reaching over and lightly brushing back a long bit of blonde hair over Julie's shoulder. I should tell Lyla not to worry about Scout. Sixteen or thirty, it didn't matter, if they didn't want to talk to you, don't take it personally. Even if sometimes it was all you as a mother could do. Julie glanced sideways, her voice soft. "Mom I have to tell you why Matt and I aren't really…talking."

So I take it you're at least going to mention his name now? Tami tried to keep her emotions in check. She felt her heart pounding. "Okay," she said, steeling herself. She swallowed hard. "Um…did you…did he…" She released a long breath, her voice quiet. "Honey Matt is Matt, whatever Tim told you about this Melanie girl, she sounds relatively harmless and I know sometimes they frustrate us, but you have to trust your husband…"

"What? No, I…no that's not it, I know…" Julie sighed, frustrated. She shook her head again, looking out over the deck to the thicket of trees blocking Lyla's house from the road. "I know he wouldn't cheat on me, I was just…was just frustrated when I heard that voice and wasn't thinking but Tim talked about it and…and it's okay, but…it's other things."

I know it's other things. "Is it children?" she whispered, taking a pretty logical guess. Theyw ere getting to that point where most couples married for as long as they'd been married would at least have the serious conversation if they hadn't had it already. She shrugged. "Are you pregnant?" Oh my God, you're pregnant aren't you, she thought, her eyes wide. You're pregnant and Matt doesn't want it. I'll go after him myself…

"No, Mom please, just sit."

"I am sitting."

Julie wiped at her eyes. She shook her head again, hiccupping. "I…" She looked up again, her face twisted in pain. She shook her head once more, whispering. "I had a miscarriage. A month ago and…" She didn't even finish, starting to cry.

Oh my God. Tami wasn't sure what to think. She wasn't even thinking about anything other than her daughter sitting in front of her crying. My baby, she instantly thought, reaching for her and holding her tight. She brushed her cheek over Julie's cheeks, rubbing at her back and holding her like she was crying over Matt in high school or something. Don't say another word, she thought, shushing her when Julie tried to speak. I think you need this. I don't think you've even allowed yourself to think it.

"Mom," she began, but Tami shushed her again. She rocked with her, smiling to herself. Let me be a mother. We can talk later.


	12. A Cold Front

**A/N:**Again, sorry for the delay. On another note, the FNL/Parenthood crossover kind of sparked my motivation/writing and I have a couple more fics in the works. Hope to finish this soon. Hope people still stick with it :)

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**Chapter 12: A Cold Front**

I'm sneaking out of my house.

Oh my God. I am sneaking out of my house.

Scout sat on the ledge of her window, looking down at the angles; she could make it. She had a perfect so far in physics; she could do the math. All she had to do was jump down the short little slope of the roof, she could move over to the roof overhang on the sunroom and then if she just sucked it up, jump off to the deck railing and then she was home free.

I could just try to walk out of the house, but not with her dad sleeping in the study. He'd hear her a mile away. She took a deep breath, glancing at her phone. Wes said he'd be at the beach waiting for her. They had to talk, she'd told him. When he'd suggested that night, she wasn't sure she had the balls to actually sneak out and go talk to him. It was totally worth it though, she thought, nodding and then creeping carefully to the edge of the roof.

As quietly as she could, she moved down the roof, holding her breath as she slipped onto the porch railing and then slung her legs over the railing, her feet barely touching the wooden planks before there was a bright light flashing into her eyes. "Ouch!" she yelped, covering them immediately. Shit! Who was that!?

Tim flicked off the lantern that was sitting on the table beside him. He flashed a grin, reaching over and turning it on a much dimmer setting. "I heard you upstairs. Do not sneak out of the house with me in it."

"Why?" she fired back. She scowled, her arms crossing her chest. "What are you going to do?" He didn't have power here. He might be her dad, but this wasn't his house. Plus, he was cool about stuff like this…right? She swallowed nervously, thinking of Wes waiting for her. "Um…I need to…to go…" She turned around, but couldn't bring herself to openly defy her dad, even if he hadn't said anything. Damnit! Why am I such a goody-two-shoes?

Tim patted the bench beside him. "Have a seat Boo."

"I haven't been Boo since I was two."

"I don't really care, have a seat."

Damn. "Um…can I just text…" The look he gave her had her swallowing again, not finishing her sentence. Yeah. Didn't think so. She trudged over to him, dropping her bag on the deck. She slumped down on the bench beside him, her nose wrinkling when she smelled alcohol. She glanced sideways; he had a bottle in his hand and it wasn't beer. "What's that?"

"Whiskey."

"Ew."

"You ever try it?"

"No." He tilted it towards her, his face impassive. Uh-oh. Scout pulled her lips in, glancing at the bottle and then to him again. This was a test. If I say no, he's going to taunt me. If I say yes, he's going to get angry. It just depends which one he was testing her with. She reached for the bottle and took it; he dropped his hand, still watching her. Why can't I read you, she wondered. You're my dad, you're just like me, but…she sniffed the bottle and then looked back at him. "Seriously?" she whispered. She shrugged. "What about Mom?"

"What about her?"

Um, duh, she wanted to say, lifting her eyebrows. "Well, what would she say if she knew you were giving me alcohol?"

"Consider it a teaching moment," he said, drifting his fingers over his lips, watching her. He smiled slightly, his voice soft and challenging. "Go ahead."

Okay. Well…if it was a challenge. She frowned, tilted her head back and took a sip of the whiskey. Barely. She was spitting it out a second later, coughing. "Ugh! Gross!" She pushed the bottle back at him, wiping her hand over her tongue, making yacking sounds. Disgusting! How can people drink that stuff, she wondered, scowling at his grin. "What? What's so funny?"

He cocked his head slightly, reaching his hand over to cover hers. "Oh, you know," he said, still grinning. He shrugged. "There are days Mary…" Uh-oh, she thought, serious name. "There are days where I know you are my daughter. You are just like me. Then there are days when you're not and…and it makes me glad sometimes."

What was that supposed to mean? She frowned slightly, turning away. I'm not like you, she wanted to say, lifting her head a little, meeting his eyes again. "What do you mean," she finally whispered, twisting her fingers around in her lap.

"Not in a bad way. Just that…I guess what I'm trying to say is that…" He smiled sideways again, tapping his fingertips to his lips again, still thinking. He dropped his hand to the table, whispering. "You are a good kid. A very good kid and you are more like your mother than me which is actually a very good thing." He smirked. "But you are kind of like me with the window thing. You know your grandpa never caught me climbing out of your mom's room?"

She smiled; she didn't hear stories like this from either of them, when sometimes it was all she wanted to know. "Really?" she whispered.

"Oh yeah. I was very good at climbing in and out of windows." He tapped his fingers to the table. "Your mom lived with me for a few weeks. It wasn't much fun. No sneaking around. Kind of lost its appeal, you know?"

Not really, but I'll take it from you, she thought. She twisted her hands around in her lap again. She nibbled her lower lip, finally looking back at him again, her face falling. "I don't know how to tell Mom about…about my…friend." I don't even really know how to tell you, but…but Mom was different. She bit her lip harder, whispering, and her eyes filling with tears. "I don't want her to think I'm like her or something, you know?"

He seemed to frown, shaking his head. "Don't talk like that about her."

What? She lifted her head, sniffling and wiping at her nose. "What?" she mumbled. "I didn't…"

"If you are anything like your mom you're in a good place. What, because you have a boyfriend nd you're sixteen-years old? You don't want her to think that you're like her?" He seemed confused and was already shaking his head, pretty insistent. "You don't…look believe me I don't want to talk to you about this type of stuff, because to me you're still three-years old and asking if you can ride the dog like a pony."

"Dad."

"I'm serious! I don't want you to be sixteen and have boyfriends, but just because you do doesn't mean anything. It means you're normal." He kept going, seemingly on a roll. He frowned. "And by the way, being like your mom isn't a bad thing kid. It's not. It's better you're like her than me and you know what? It's killing her that you're not talking to her. You guys…" He bit his lower lip and then pushed through whatever was about to hang him up. "You guys have something because…because it's been just you guys."

Oh Dad…she shook her head, whispering. "Daddy…that's not…"

But he was interrupting her, like she hadn't said anything. "It's not because I'm not there, but it is because I'm not there." Stop talking in riddles, she thought, her fingers continuing to tighten into fists. "It is you guys. It's always been you guys. I know I haven't been the best dad in the world, but I'm going to try, I promise."

Don't make a promise you can't keep. She got up from her chair, walking around the table to sit beside him on the bench, her arms wrapping around his neck and her head resting to his shoulder. "You're the best dad," she whispered. Maybe that was just to make him feel better, but to her he was the best dad. She didn't really care anymore. He wanted to be there now. Better late than never, she thought, lifting her chin to his shoulder and looking up. He seemed lost. Then again, she thought wryly, her dad was often lost. "Are you really moving?" she whispered. Please don't really be moving.

"Hmm…no," he murmured. He sighed, his arm around her shoulders, shaking his head and whispering. "I don't know kid. Depends what happens with this whole thing…I think I have to right now, but…" He sighed again, giving her a hug. "That's grown-up stuff."

"But who is buying it?" I want to know who is taking away the house that my dad built, she thought. She bit her lower lip. There was a floorboard in her room there that she'd pried up one day. She hid a lot of her things there. There were some journals and a couple of photo albums. Things she'd snuck in after finding them. Some newspaper articles on her parents as kids. A state ring she'd found in a box in the attic, covered in dust.

Tim pulled her tighter towards him. "Some company or something. 831 Investments." Whoa, she thought, sitting up instantly. 831 Investments? That's me, she thought, her eyes wide. She looked up and he frowned, sensing her shock. "You okay?"

Um…she frowned, looking up at him again. I'm confused. "Why is Mom buying your house?" she asked. That didn't make sense.

His brow flickered, confused as well. "Huh?"

"831 Investments. That's my trust fund, but I don't have any real hold on it." She thought maybe Buddy did. Once Lyla tried to get her to understand the realities of the money situation, but she hadn't been paying much attention. It wasn't important to her, plus she couldn't touch it until she was eighteen anyway. She blinked at his look, which had now gone completely unreadable. "831? It's Mom's birthday. August 31. Grandpa made it for her or something after she got into the money from the books. She's buying your house?"

He suddenly smiled, but she didn't like it. It was very shadowed. "Yes," he whispered. He smiled again. "Yes Mary. Your mother is buying my house. I'm paying her back kid. Don't think that this is her bailing me out or anything."

"I don't," she said. She smiled, her arms going back around him again. She nuzzled her head into the crook of his shoulder, like she was a little kid again. I missed you, she thought, closing her eyes. She bit her lower lip, her brow furrowing. "Is Mom letting me come see you?"

"Yeah…we still have to talk about it, but…seems like maybe as soon as Christmas."

Her heart jumped in her chest. Christmas! That was only in a couple of months. Wow…she bit her lower lip, looking back up at him again. Christmas. "Seriously?" she whispered. It didn't seem real. She got to go for a couple of weeks each summer and that was it. The last time she was there at Christmas was…well like five years ago. Wow. "Oh my God," she squealed, the shock wearing off as it settled in. She spun on the bench, jumping back against him. I'm going to Texas for Christmas!

Whatever her parents were doing, it was working, she thought, kissing his cheek hard. He made a face, but was smiling happily. He scrubbed his knuckles on her shoulder, reaching around to rub at her hair, sending it flying around her head. "Yeah, I love you too. Go upstairs. Call Wes, tell him you're not going to meet him. He can come here tomorrow like a man and talk to you."

She smiled, kissing his cheek again. "I love you Daddy. You're the best ever."

"You just think I am," he said. He pulled her back towards him for another hug. Okay, more emotional now, she thought, her chin on his shoulder, waiting for him to let her go. He sighed, holding her for a few minutes before he leaned in, whispering into her ear. "I love you. You're the best thing that's ever happened to me and I promise it's going to be better. I mean it this time."

I know, she thought. It wasn't…she'd see it if it happened, but she knew that her mom got worried when he came and went. She knew that her mom got upset when she was upset about something Tim happened to have done or forgotten. This was different though. This whole trip had been different. She really needed to talk to Wes; she was kind of all over the place with how she was feeling. It was so confusing. She pulled away and wrinkled her nose when he went to pinch it. "Stop doing that," she giggled. "You did that when I was a baby."

"Didn't see you much, had to make sure you were real," he said. He let go of her hand, gesturing towards the house. "Get on now." He poured more whiskey into the glass beside his elbow, picking it up and smirking. "And I plan on hanging out here for most of the night, so no sneaking back out again."

I don't think I could muster the energy, she thought, letting go of him and smiling over her shoulder. "Night Dad."

"Night," he called softly.

She went back into the house and up the stairs, stopping in her tracks. Lyla was sitting on the top step, trying to hide her smile. "Um…"

"Why don't you just go to your room and we'll talk later," Lyla said, dropping her hand from where she'd had her chin propped. She draped her arms over her knees, smiling up at her. The smile twisted into a smirk. Aw man, Scout thought, leaning against the banister railing. Her mother's eyes sparkled. "You were going to meet a guy, huh?"

She flushed pink. No, she instantly wanted to say. "It doesn't matter, Dad caught me."

"Well he'd be the expert."

"Grandpa's sleeping so I should probably…"

Lyla grabbed her ankle as she tried to step around her, looking back up again; the serious face was back, the teasing gone. "We'll talk tomorrow." The gauntlet has been thrown, Scout thought, nodding. She'd talk to her. Fine. Whatever.

Oh, speaking of talk, she thought, turning around once she got around Lyla at the top of the step. "Hey, um, why didn't you tell me that we're buying Dad's house?" That was something she wanted an answer to now. It wasn't a big deal, but then again, it kind of was. She understood why they kept it secret. It must have been terribly embarrassing for her dad to admit that he needed help with finances and for Mom and Grandpa to be the ones to give him money and buy the house? Yikes.

It did seem strange. Dad never struck her as someone who would ask for that type of help. Take it, but never ask. Maybe he didn't, but…it was weird. She shrugged again; Lyla's face was empty. "You told your dad that?" Lyla whispered.

"I didn't tell him. I didn't even know, he mentioned the trust fund account firm thing and I said that it was ours. 831 Investments, right? It's because it's your birthday." Scout shrugged. "He said he'd pay you back, but you probably already know that."

Lyla smiled tightly. "Hmm."

Something very weird was going on, but oh well. It was adult stuff, she wouldn't get involved. There was enough in her life as it was, she thought, leaving Lyla on the stairs and going into her room. Artemis was sleeping on her bed, lifting her head briefly when she closed the door. "Hello there my baby," she cooed, practically lying on top of her golden retriever, who just licked her face before putting her head back down. Scout ruffled her fur, the tags on her collar clinking. She changed out of her clothes, locked up the window, and took her phone out of her bag, seeing there were about fifty texts from Wes.

"Got caught," she texted back. _Not a lie, I promise. Tomorrow morning. Come by for real._ She paused, sighing and sent another text, her cheeks flushing at the thought. _You can meet my mom._

A moment later, he responded_. I'll be there_.

I'm sure you will, she thought, crawling into bed. She looked up at the ceiling and then at her alarm clock. I can't sleep. Probably won't. "I've got to get my stuff out of Dad's house," she said to Artemis, who wasn't listening. She crawled out of bed and down to the floor, lifting up the top of her picture window seat, reaching in and removing a shoebox. She began to sift through it, smiling at the memories she'd managed to hoard over the years. She set the photos down in the box, looking up at her closed door, frowning.

She stood, wondering what the creaking was, and pulled back her door slightly, peeking down the hallway. Tim was standing at the base of the stairs to her mom's room. He glanced around and then up the stairs one more time before tip-toeing carefully up them, vanishing from view.

"Gross," she giggled, closing the door. She made a face at Artemis. "My parents are weird." Her heart still managed to fly up into her throat. Maybe they were getting back together again, she thought, grabbing Artemis for a big hug. It all seemed to be coming together, she sighed, closing her eyes, feeling happy.


	13. Clear Skies

**A/N:**WOW. Thank you so much for the reviews! They mean a lot and often really help propel me to finish writing a particular fic and rarely, but sometimes, change storyline directions. Anyways, I'm glad this is enjoyable. I'm branching into the Matt/Julie-verse, but I'm not quite there yet to fully detach from a Tim/Lyla storyline :) Anyways, enjoy this chapter, it's looking brighter. The answer to the Tim/Lyla confrontation in the last chapter will be answered in future chapters.

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**Chapter 13: Clear Skies **

Holy crap. Julie set down the final pages of Lyla's book, her pen dropping onto the back of the last page. The end, or is it, she wondered, scrubbing at her face. Her eyes felt kind of swollen from reading so frantically. She'd be reading it at least twenty more times after this initial one. Reading for grammar, reading for structure, and reading for comprehension. Then changes. Second draft readings, third draft readings. It's a wonder people went into writing at all, she thought, dropping her hands onto the book.

She looked over the table at her mother, who was focusing intently on her. "Mom, why don't you go with Buddy into town or something," she said. She shrugged. "It's been a long day."

Tami shook her head, her voice soft. "Are you going to tell your father? Because I'm going to have to tell him."

Aw, Mom…she sighed, shaking her head slightly. It wasn't that she didn't want her dad to know about the…the baby or anything, but…well it was just hard to tell her mother anyway. It was hard to talk about it. She didn't say anything to Tami, getting up from the table. She went to the stove, where her mother had made tea a few minutes ago. She poured herself a cup, dunking the teabag into the hot water a few times before setting it aside to steep.

I told you Mom, she thought. I told you about the baby and I told you about my problems with Matt. I just don't want to talk about it anymore. I feel like that's all I've done. All I want to do is focus on this book, because if the ending of it was any indication, Lyla had written herself a bestseller and she was going to have to handle the whole reveal of the author thing. They couldn't keep her secret anymore. The big guns back at the publishing house wouldn't allow it, not with something like this. "I think I might go for a walk," she said, turning around and smiling briefly. "It's a nice day."

It hadn't rained…yet. The sun was still out and she had been holed up in the tiny suite at their bed and breakfast all morning, since she'd gotten the papers from Lyla that morning. Lyla had seemed very distracted, dropping off the rest of the book and then running off, claiming she had something she needed to fix. Julie picked up her cup of tea, walking out of the kitchenette area and to the little balcony, standing out on it and looking down at the main street.

She hadn't spoken to Matt since that ill-fated phone call several days ago. Tim told her the whole thing, about how his ex-girlfriend was crashing there, reminding her that Matt was a nice guy who was probably doing everything in his power not to yell at her and completely explode…she believed Tim. She found it kind of weird that a guy who hadn't spoken to her husband beyond once or twice a year was lecturing her on him, but…he had a point.

And right now I just want my life back the way it was. Matt and her happy in Chicago…that was about it. None of this guilt over the baby and not wanting another one and…and this need to prove to her bosses…ugh, she wanted to scream, rubbing at her eyes. "I'm going on a walk," she announced, putting the un-drunken cup of tea on the counter. Tami looked up over the top of the pages. "Mom, please don't read that. It's not even a final draft."

"Oh who am I going to tell? I want to know what Lyla's plan is."

"And that's not her plan, it's a book." A book based not just loosely on her life but that was her life. It was incredibly personal and the fact that Lyla was willing to publish it for the world to see was incomprehensible to Julie, but for whatever reason, she wanted to do it to cope with whatever demons she was dealing with. Julie pulled her coat on, shoving a set of gloves into her pockets in case she went to the beach.

Tami stood up. "Sweetie, why don't you just stay here? We can talk more…"

"I don't want to talk about anything anymore," she said, ignoring Tami's call for her to come back. I need a break from the book. I just want to…to be alone. She left the bed and breakfast, setting off down main street, her hands in her pockets and walking off towards the little stretch of shops.

For the next hour, she browsed in old bookstores, antique shops, and even went into a boat supply store, finding it incredibly intimidating, but there were some adorable wooden buoys that she wanted to hang in the sunroom of her and Matt's Hyde Park loft. "Can I get those shipped?" she asked, forking over her credit card. "They might be too big for my suitcase."

"Yeah, no problem, it'll be an extra charge," the old guy behind the counter said, finishing up her order. He smiled at her. "Visiting from out of town? Tourist season is over, you know."

"Um, I'm friends with someone here. Visiting," she said.

"Oh yeah, who?"

Julie looked up from scribbling her name on the credit card bill. Julie Taylor-Saracen. Once again a reminder she was married and should speak to her husband. She sighed, shaking her head slightly to get the thought out. "Um…yeah I'm visiting Lyla Garrity."

"Ah, the writer. That daughter of hers is a peach, helps out in the summertime with the boats. Real sweet kid. Takes after her mother. That Lyla…she's only been here for a few years, but we already consider her an Orcas Island native," he said, chuckling. "It'll be a shame if she ever moves."

Moves? Julie frowned. "Why would she move?"

"Oh you know, Scout said she wanted to go to college in Princeton. Only makes sense that her mother would follow her back to the mainland." He tsked. "She's so lonely, poor girl. My wife Annie has been trying to set her up with some fine gentlemen, but nope, she says she's not interested. Holding out for one true love, she says."

Julie thought of the ending of the book she'd just finished. Rose and Tommy, finally together again. She smirked, taking the receipt from the old guy and putting it into her bag. "Well, I'm sure knowing Lyla she'll try and get it," she said, smiling quickly. "Thanks."

She left the store, walking along the sidewalk again. She stopped into Beans to pick up a cup of coffee, but Lyla wasn't there and nor was her sister, so she didn't stick around long. For the next hour she just wandered, finding herself down by the ferry docking area. She chose a bench, looking over the bay, and leaned back, just decompressing after the work she'd been doing and…and the emotions she'd been feeling.

"Mind if I join?"

Julie looked up, frowning briefly when Lyla came over, holding a bag in her hand. "Yeah, I guess."

Lyla sat down beside her, reaching into the bag and removing a paper wrapped object. "Stopped at the bakery. Croissant? They're very good. Jean makes them from scratch." She opened up hers, picking off a piece of bread and popping it into her mouth. She chewed for a moment, swallowed, and then spoke softly. "So you finished the book?"

"I did." She took a bite of her croissant. Damn. That was very good. She let it melt in her mouth for a moment before finishing her bite. She cleared her throat. "You're going to have to announce that you are not Timothy Scout. You are Lyla Garrity and Rose is Lyla and Tommy is Tim Riggins." She glanced sideways, dead serious. Lyla wasn't looking at her. "I mean it Lyla. This isn't Julie the editor either, this is Julie the…well I know we're not close but I think that I can say as a friend that we should probably talk about how you want to announce. I recommend about two weeks before. We announce that it is a pseudonym and then that will create buzz…a week later we put you on some morning shows, but you'll need a publicist for sure. The firm can provide some names."

"I have an agent in mind," she murmured. She tucked her hair behind her ear, her smile ghostly. "Jason Street."

"He's a sport's agent." She moved beyond it, even knowing that there was a lot of tension between the two. "And besides, you need a publicist. Welcome to the world of being a bestselling author Lyla. You've got to start…working now."

"I am working," Lyla snapped.

I don't care. That's not even what I meant. She was already shaking her head, frowning. "Lyla this is your career now. There are responsibilities."

"I have a daughter."

"So do how many other writers in the world?"

"Yeah, but is their daughter the source of their writing?" she snapped. She was shaking her head again, rubbing at her temple, her voice hard. "Julie, this is therapeutic for me. I didn't intend to be a writer. I didn't intend for any of this, I had a few English classes that I really liked and…"

"You named your daughter after a literary character from a book about like slavery or something," Julie said, blowing ahead of any excuses Lyla could give. "Sorry Lyla, but you're in this. You are a writer and you have to do this stuff."

Lyla scowled at her. "You know Julie, you might want a career and fast-paced lifestyle, but I had a baby when I was a stupid kid who didn't know what I wanted. This came from that, but it isn't my life because my kid is my life."

What's that supposed to mean, she thought, glaring sideways. "Excuse me?" Keep calm, she tried to tell herself, but she felt her ire rising. She angrily shoved a stray chunk of hair behind her ear. "What are you trying to imply Lyla?" She kept going, feeling emotions tumbling out of her. "Because I want a career and not a child that I'm somehow at fault? That because I miscarried and felt relief that I should be ashamed? My husband wants a kid and I don't and we can't agree on that because I want a career so I'm to be upset? Is that what you're trying to get at? Because it's unfair! It's wrong and it's unfair!"

She took a deep breath, her eyes wide, staring at Lyla's vacant expression. She bit her lower lip. "Look," she said, leaning forward and gesturing with her hands. "This book means a lot not just to you, but to me. To finally get where I want to be and once I'm there, then maybe I can sit down and talk with Matt about children and stuff."

Lyla kept staring at her. Why are you looking at me like that, she thought, scowling at her. What? Finally, Lyla's vacant expression broke into a smile. "You know Julie," she said, her voice soft. She lifted an eyebrow. "I didn't say anything about that. Sounds like you're the one that is feeling like that for whatever reason. You shouldn't, by the way."

"Shouldn't what?" she snapped.

"Shouldn't feel ashamed. You're mourning. You're angry now. Eventually it's going to lead to acceptance." Lyla kept going, arching her eyebrow farther to her forehead, her lip quirked up as she spoke. "You want a career and there's nothing wrong with that. I wanted a career. I wanted to be big and make something of myself but circumstances changed. I have a different path now. Your miscarriage isn't something to be relieved about. You don't feel relief."

That's what it feels like and it makes me sick, she thought, her stomach in knots. She shoved her fingers through her hair. "I couldn't tell my mom that," she whispered. It had been sitting inside of her for weeks. She looked over at Lyla again, whispering. "You had one. What did you feel? Because it feels like relief and I hate myself for it." Tami told her it wasn't her fault. It wasn't, she knew it wasn't. It was just nature's way. The doctor said she was perfectly healthy; sometimes these things happened. I know I didn't wish it to happen because I was so confused about it…I know that. I believe my mom telling me it isn't fault and one day I'll be ready, that this could be a blessing in disguise.

_"Sweetheart, right now you and Matt aren't talking the way you should, do you think that if you were having a child you should be in that sort of position? Your father and I talked about children before we got married, we knew that if we got pregnant we would be ready for it. This could be a blessing in disguise. Mourn what could have been, mourn the baby, but realize that now you have a chance to strengthen what you have with Matt and when you are ready, you will plan for it, and when you have a baby, you won't have regrets. I think you would have had regrets."_

Why couldn't Matt see it like that? Matt didn't see it like anything other than she was happy about it. He saw it as her career needing to come first. She wiped at her eyes, looking over at Lyla, who was thinking, slouched slightly in her seat. Lyla finally shrugged. "I didn't feel relief. I didn't feel sadness. I just felt empty." She glanced sideways, continuing to whisper. "I wasn't married, I wasn't on the verge of a career, and I already had a kid. I also didn't know beforehand. It just happened and I found out and…and I felt sad, of course, but I just…moved on with my life." She shrugged again, whispering. "You and Matt love each other. I don't know what's going on with you guys right now Julie, but I…" She smirked. "I envy it."

Envy? Lyla Garrity? Envying her? She arched her eyebrow, snorting. "Yeah. We've been married for almost a decade and we haven't talked about kids. I thought for a brief second he was cheating and he hasn't called me back since. He runs off to Texas and I run off to…to wherever we are." She smiled wryly. "What's there to envy?"

"Envy isn't the best word," Lyla said, leaning back into the armrest on her side of the bench. She wrapped her arms around herself and crossed her legs, bopping her foot up and down. "What I think you don't realize Julie is that your life? It's pretty put together. Your biggest concern at this point is getting my book to print and I can assure you, something which you haven't yet seemed to realize, is that Tracy and the rest at Gould Publishing are going to do whatever I ask." She smirked. "I'm the meal ticket. The future for them. My story is enough to get them scrambling. I ask for nothing, I just do as they say, so when they want to take you off this account because it's too high profile, well then…" She shrugged. "I go to another company."

Lyla Garrity. Talons and teeth, that's what Tyra had said once in high school. _She's a little dove_, Tyra had said, explaining Lyla Garrity to her one day, after the whole Tim-Jason debacle, after the State game. Tyra had smirked. _But beneath that wholesome little peaceful dove is a hawk. With talons and teeth. _Which Julie had found amusing, because hawks didn't have teeth, but she understood what Tyra was trying to say.

One day that will be the title of your memoir, Julie thought. She smirked. "You should have gone into business. Or law."

"I had a kid," Lyla said, smiling. She chuckled, tossing her hair out of her eyes, looking out over the water. She leaned forward over her knees, watching as a ferry came into view. "I had to find something that was going to get me money and get it fast. I did the business thing for awhile. Hated it with every fiber of my being and I missed Scout."

Scout, yeah, Julie thought. She shook her head again, whispering. "I don't know what to tell Matt. I still don't know…" She groaned. It was so complicated. She raked her fingers through her hair, whispering. "I feel like it's all falling apart when it isn't and I just…I'm so confused. How am I supposed to get Matt to understand?"

"You just tell him what you feel," Lyla said. She shrugged. "About the baby. About children in the future. You compromise. I'm finding that it actually gets a lot of stuff done." Like you and Tim compromise, she thought, rolling her eyes and glancing over her shoulder at Lyla. It must have shown, because Lyla nodded, agreeing. "Yeah, kind of hypocritical, but…well we've recently come to a compromise. I think it will work."

Compromise. They compromised. Where to eat on Sunday. What to do for Christmas. Where to go on vacation. How much money to put away for a house versus the vacation. Somehow they'd never talked about kids beyond that they wanted to have them. "Matt's…Matt ran off the Texas, he doesn't want to talk to me," she muttered.

"He's just staying at Tim's house licking his wounds, Julie. What do you think he's doing there? Drawing up divorce papers? I doubt that."

I doubt it too, but…it was hard to talk about these things when we're in two different states, she thought, leaning back on the bench. She crossed her legs and then uncrossed them. "He had a girl there," she said, using any excuse she could. It didn't matter. Lyla was right. We have to talk. There was no way around it and she couldn't even use work as the excuse. It had been over a week here in Washington. She angrily shoved her hair back over her shoulder; the wind kept blowing it into her face and she didn't have a tie.

Without saying a word, Lyla reached into her bag and removed a hair tie, passing it towards her. Julie yanked at her hair, pulling it into a messy knot at the base of her neck, staring at the ferry. They were above the loading area and she could look down as the passenger ferry unloaded people while beside it, a car ferry unloaded. She shook her head again. "He had a girl there, he didn't bother calling to explain after I hung up."

"Maybe because he didn't think he even had to acknowledge it. You know he wouldn't cheat on you."

"No," she agreed. She looked over her shoulder at Lyla, shrugging nonchalantly. "What about Tim?"

"What about him?"

"The whole girl thing with Tim. If you guys actually got into one place at one time, would you trust him? Because that's the difference and what's even more hypocritical about you telling me about Matt." Maybe it was cruel, but she didn't owe Lyla anything. She was the editor, she'd keep being the editor, and Lyla wouldn't kick her off the book just because she said a few mean things about Tim. Or maybe…she frowned slightly, turning around a little. Maybe I did overstep myself. Shit. I don't think, she thought, scrubbing her face. "Sorry."

Lyla snorted. "Tim wouldn't cheat on me."

"Seriously?" she whispered, turning back around again. She smirked. "What about his whole history?"

"Tim is a creature of habit. Tim is probably the biggest monogamist between both of us and well, the world. If he could settle down with one person the rest of his life, he'd do it in a heartbeat because it's stable. The nonstop affairs and women and one-night stands are his way of just scratching an itch and doing what his species is bred to do," Lyla said, slightly sarcastic. She smirked again and then laughed, smiling broadly. "But Matt? Matt loves you Julie. He probably has since the first time he saw you."

I think he has. Too bad I didn't feel the same. I made him work for it, she thought with a small smile, looking down at the ferry. Her eyes widened slightly. "Oh my God," she murmured, getting up from the bench. She leaned on the railing, looking at the throng of people. That couldn't be. She moved along the railing, trying to get a better look, but there were a lot of people.

"Julie?"

Julie ignored Lyla and began to run along the railing, trying to find a way to get down to the dock. She finally grabbed hold of the gate leading to the embarking dock, which was still closed as people unloaded. "Matt!" she yelled, waving her arms wildly like windmills. She thought he looked up, but wasn't sure. That had to be him; she knew it was him, she could see the uncut hair that was curling around his head and the battered canvas paint-streaked bag on his hip. She cupped her hands around her mouth, shouting. "Matt!"

Then he looked up. She could see him clearly, standing on the bottom step leading up, people moving around him. He smiled a little and lifted his hand up, waving slightly. Oh my God, she thought, her heart leaping in her chest. Wow. I didn't think…oh my God I missed you, she thought, forgetting everything for a brief moment.

We can work this out, she thought, hurrying around the gate towards the entrance from the dock. She waited, on the balls of her feet, hurrying towards him when he finally broke through the crowd. She stopped hard, in front of him, looking him in the eye. "What are you doing here?" she whispered, trying to keep from smiling too wide, because he wasn't smiling. He was just looking at her.

Matt took a deep breath, fidgeting with the strap of his bag. He looked down at her, his face relatively stony. "I'm here," he whispered. He took a deep breath and slowly let it out, looking down at his feet and then back up to her again, his eyes deep and soulful. "I'm here because Tim called me and then your mom called me. Then your sister. Then Tyra. Then your dad." He smiled a little. "And then they called again in that order. I didn't even know Tim cared about our marriage, but apparently it's winning him brownie points with Lyla so he'll do it."

His entire little speech was scattered with slight stutters, which had her smiling. She waited until he'd finished before she smiled again, her voice soft. "So you're here…because they called you?"

"I'm here because…" he trailed off, shrugging. He looked down at his feet again, mumbling. "Because that's where you are and…and I think that…that being in Texas and you here…well it wasn't working so here I am. Because you're here." He looked back up again. Focused on her. "We can work here."

We can work here, she thought. She reached for him, wrapping her arms around his neck and holding tight, tears flooding her vision. It made the other island she could see across the bay turn blurry. It began to drop rain slightly, just one or two she could feel on her arms. For a moment she thought it was tears, but then Matt said something about how he didn't bring an umbrella. "Well," she laughed, wiping at her eyes and stepping back. "I'm sure we can borrow one from Lyla."

Matt smiled, letting go of her and began to walk slowly beside her. "I'm going to stay somewhere else. Tim told me of an inn or something…I still think we shouldn't…we still need to work on stuff."

I agree. We still need to work on stuff, but hey, she thought, smiling warmly up at him. This was a start. She looked over towards the bench, seeing Lyla still sitting there, smiling in their direction. "It could be worse," she whispered, looking away. She folded her hands in front of her, walking away from the docks, Matt beside her, and turned her attention towards the main thicket of trees, rising up onto a hill. They had some tough stuff to work through, but…but she was going to try to do something her mother was the expert at. She was going to try to look on the bright side and this just seemed like the first step. They weren't Tim and Lyla and whatever was going on with them. "It could be a lot worse."


	14. I Can See Clearly Now

**A/N:**Sorry for the long wait between chapters. I'm going to finish this story, it's just taking longer than expected. Thanks for the reviews and the patience. :)

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**Chapter 14: I Can See Clearly Now**

Where the hell am I, Tim wondered, rolling over slightly in bed. He shifted a little, frowning. The hell? He reached behind him and pulled out a book, tossing it aside. He rolled back onto his side, blinking at the alarm clock. Aw, crap! It was like ten in the morning! He jumped up, looking around. Uh-oh.

"Why?" he moaned, scrubbing at his face. He was hungover too. Ugh, too much whiskey last night. He picked up a bottle from the nightstand, sighing at the dry glass. Damn. Really did have a lot. He paused, about to climb out of bed and then looked around. No one was around. He lifted up the covers, just as the door opened.

Lyla closed her bedroom door behind her, holding a bag of something that smelled good, wafting through the room. "Got you coffee and croissants. Why are you looking under the covers?"

"I'm just making sure my boxers are still on."

She smirked, passing him a cup of coffee. "You put them back on." She dropped the bag in his lap. "Croissants. I had to heat them up, I ran into Julie." She looked over her shoulder, after shrugging off her running jacket. Her voice was soft. "Matt's back."

Hmm, yeah, he thought after their last conversation that Matt would be catching a ride up to this little hamlet in the middle of nowhere, he thought, ripping a croissant in half. He passed the other half to Lyla, who sat down on the bed beside him, swinging her feet up onto the bed, and crossing her ankles. He bit into a piece of croissant, his eyes widening. Good. He didn't really eat bread. Unless it was covered in sugar. "These are good," he mumbled.

"They are."

They sat in silence, both of them on the bed, side by side, only their shoulders barely touching as they drank coffee and ate half a croissant. We're like a fucking Norman Rockwell, Tim thought, finally looking over at her. He shook his head; unbelievable, he thought. "So are we going to talk about last night?" he asked, looking over at her.

It was anger that did it. Finally propelled them over the edge into the water, he thought. He'd gone upstairs; she'd opened the door. After a few tense minutes of him confronting her about the house and the investment company trust thing and then her statements that he actually believed about how she had no idea what her father was up to, they'd just suddenly stopped. It had been kind of…well like he was looking inside from the outside.

They'd never just stopped before they were starting a fight. He didn't know what to do. That's when things got really weird.

_"You want a drink?" Lyla asked. She walked away from the door, opening up her desk drawer. She pulled out a bottle of whiskey, lifting it up and smirking. "I keep it for emergencies."_

_"Nighttime drinking emergencies?"_

_"You can sneak out my window to get more if we need it."_

_"Scout will hear."_

_"Then you can explain the joys of being a parent. Do as I say but not as I do." She turned around again, her face sad, but her smile somewhat hopeful. "I'm so tired of fighting," she whispered. She shrugged. "I just want us to please…please just can't we work on this? Like normal people?"_

_He completely agreed. He didn't want to fight with her on his house anymore. Buddy was doing what Buddy would do. He believed her; he didn't want to fight either. Not when he was starting to get on track and she was trusting him with Scout and…and Scout and him were in a good place too. He sighed, holding his hand out. "Pass me that bottle."_

_"No funny business."_

_So he'd taken a long pull from the whiskey, swallowing a gulp loudly. "No promises Garrity."_

_And she'd smirked._

"That was our downfall," Lyla said, interrupting his thoughts. He frowned slightly and she nodded towards the empty bottle. She sighed, seemingly regretful. "I really thought this time it might be different. Since we promised each other all that stuff. I also thought you really hated me."

Hate? No, no hate. "I don't hate you," he whispered. He reached for her hand, lifting it up and threading their fingers together, in and out. She squeezed back when he stopped moving, covering their joined hands with her free one. He covered that one with his. Like they were dog-piling or something. He smiled a little when she slipped her hand out and covered his. So he did the same to hers. Okay, now it's getting silly. He stopped when they did that again. "You always want to be on top," he mumbled, letting her hand be on top of his.

"Well…"

"No," he said, warning her. That was usually him, trying to do the double entendre thing to keep off of the actual topic. He let go of their hands, looking away and then back to her again, his voice quiet. "What do you want Lyla?"

Lyla pursed her lips, staring up at him. She shook her head, sighing and then looked back up again, her eyes suddenly shining brighter than they had a minute ago. "I want…" she trailed off. She shrugged, whispering and drawing her knees to her chest. "I want…I want…"

"Because I want you," he said. It had always been that. She flinched, turning away from him. He shrugged; it didn't bother him as much as it used to when she did that. "I don't know if…if we can get over it all. I said bad things. You said bad things. I still can't believe you kept her from me, but…I'm starting to realize that there are worse things in the world." Like having her disappointed in me, he thought. Or upset that I blew things apart and…and having your parents not stand to be in the same room with each other. I want to be able to be in the same room with you, he thought, reaching for her hand again. He lifted it to his lips, kissing her knuckles. "I love you Garrity and I probably always will, but…but I'm kind of done with this. I just…" I'm so tired of this. I need to get back to life. He looked back at her, meeting her gaze. Tears were falling down her face. It made him hurt, when she cried like that, because of him. He gently wiped at her tears and lifted her chin up, kissing her lightly. "I'm going to go. Tomorrow."

"You don't have to leave so soon," she whispered, her forehead touching his. She hiccupped. "I am sorry. I'm so sorry…"

"Stop saying that."

"You're never going to forgive me."

"We've been through this." He took a deep breath, whispering and wiping at her face again. "I love you. I forgive you. It kind of sucks, to want someone so much but…but want to strangle them too," he said, chuckling at her laugh. He smiled again. "Don't cry Garrity."

Lyla tossed her hair from her eyes again, smiling and shaking her head. "I just…" she trailed off, dropping her head and looking down at their hands, clenched together again. She took a deep breath, slowly releasing it. "I just find it funny that Matt and Julie are here…coming together again and here we are…feels like we're breaking up again. I wish it weren't so sad, is all."

I wish it wasn't sad either. At least…nice way to say goodbye, he thought, thinking back on the night before. He kissed her one last time before swinging over the side of the bed, tugging his jeans back on. Meanwhile, she gathered up the coffee and trash, setting it on her dresser near the door. This really sucks, he thought, buttoning up his shirt. He sank back down onto the edge of the bed, reaching for one of his socks. "Here," Lyla said, passing him the other one. She sat down beside him, sitting on her hands and looking around the room. "You might have to go out the window. I don't want Scout to see you."

"Seriously?"

"Yes." She smiled a little. "You know…we kind of talked about the house thing…"

"Yup. Your dad buys it, thinks he's being sly, and I pay the mortgage every month," he said, looking back at her, smiling again. "I'm renting my own house." Kind of pathetic, but once she had the deed, she was going to sign it back to him. Then he'd pay it off like he'd been doing it all along before he got nervous that the bank was going to take it from him. Before they kicked him out, he put it up for sale and then all this stuff happened.

Lyla nodded, crossing her arms over her chest. "Yeah." She nibbled her lip, smiling slightly. "We didn't talk about what you're going to do. Something with cars? You can do that again?"

"Yup." He'd mostly been staying away from it in case someone decided to look into his background. Unfortunately, or maybe fortunately, an incredibly rich investor in one of the Buddy's Bar franchises broke down in the parking lot of the original Buddy's. He'd been leaving, took a look at the fancy engine, and within about twenty minutes the guy was on his way. He shook his head, his voice quiet. "You're just going to say it's dumb."

She flinched again. "I'm not…not going to say that." She hesitated, her voice quiet. "Tim I just want you happy, hard as that might be for you to believe. If it makes you happy and…and you're going to do well from it…that's all I ever wanted for you. To be happy. I guess I just…just thought that you would be happy if it were what I wanted. College and all that." She nibbled her lower lip again, chuckling. "What's done is done. We were never going to be that couple that stays together from high school on…"

"No," he agreed. I guess I just thought we'd be that couple that breaks up and then gets back together, he thought. One thing he thought for sure was that they'd never really see each other again. Or talk. It seemed that way, until Jason called him. He frowned slightly. "When Jason called…I thought it was a bad joke."

Lyla swallowed hard, her throat bobbing. "You never…I never knew…" she took another deep breath. "I never knew what he'd told you. Or what you thought then."

I don't really remember, just…Tim shrugged, thinking about it a bit. All he knew was that he was in the middle of a conversation with Tyra. She was hanging out at his house, hiding from her mother. They were drinking beer and just bullshitting about everything. She was graduating college, unsure what she planned on doing afterward, and then his phone rang.

_"Just ignore them, don't you realize I'm in the middle of a crisis?" Tyra laughed, tilting her beer bottle towards the phone. "Don't answer that."_

_"What if it's Billy?"_

_"Who cares?"_

_Tim grinned. "What if it's your sister? Or Becky?" He picked up the phone, while she called out that it wouldn't matter, someone would probably just drop by. He tilted it to his ear, opening up the fridge for a new beer. "Yeah?"_

_"Timmy."_

_Uh-oh, he thought, straightening up as the door to the fridge slammed shut. "Jason," he said, his voice soft. He set the bottle on the counter, glancing over at Tyra, who was automatically up at the tone of his voice. "Jason what's going on? You okay?" His heart thudded. Jason never just called him like that. Out of the blue. Saying his name like that. All serious. "Kid and Erin alright?"_

_"They're…they're fine. It's just. Something is…" Jason sighed. "I didn't want to do this over the phone, but I couldn't sit on it anymore. I just couldn't. It wasn't fair to you and to…to her."_

_Who her? "Jason you cheat on Erin or something? What's going on?" he asked again. It was starting to make him nervous. Tyra had come to stand across from him, her eyes focused on him, concerned. "Tell me now."_

_Jason took a deep breath. He waited a second and then spoke. What he said just about split Tim in half. "Lyla's daughter? The father isn't who she says it is, some ex-boyfriend from Vanderbilt. She's three, Tim. Three years old and about nine months. Which means that she was…was conceived in October. When Lyla was a freshman at Vanderbilt. Her dad isn't some random guy. I couldn't hide it from you anymore, now that I know."_

_Oh my God. It was…he knew it. He knew it, but wouldn't believe it. This was just…he felt shaky. "October…huh?" he whispered. He swallowed hard again. "Matt's dad died in October."_

_"And Lyla came home, didn't she?"_

_Yeah. Yeah she did. Oh my God. "I have to go," he whispered. He hung up, before Jason could say anything and dropped the phone. He looked over at Tyra, who was just staring at him. He didn't wait for her question, his voice dull and dead. It all felt hollow. Everything was numb. "Lyla's kid is my kid."_

_Tyra arched her eyebrow. "Excuse me?"_

_"I have a kid. She lied." He turned away from Tyra and grabbed his car keys. He had to go find Lyla. She was in town. This wasn't going to end well. _

"I felt kind of…empty," he said. He glanced at her, seeing her eyes well up with tears again. He reached around, hugging her towards him and kissing the top of her head. "I just want to let it go now Lyla."

She nodded quickly. "Okay. Fine."

He got up, walking over to the door; on the other side, he could hear Buddy and Scout talking. Damn. Guess I do have to go out the window. He turned back around, looking over at her; she was still sitting on the bed. Waiting. Damn. He bit his lip and shrugged. "I'm going to be a mechanic again."

She frowned briefly, but then smiled again. "Okay. Mechanic? Where are you going to do that?" Basically, who is going to let you do that, he translated in his head. She followed him to the window, leaning against it as he pushed it up and slung his leg over onto the side. She pointed to the awning. "Be careful, the gutter is a little loose."

"I'll be fine." He crouched on the roof, meeting her eyes again and smiling. "Winston Ames."

Her brow flickered again. Then it hit her. "The newspaper guy? The rancher guy? Basically that super rich guy that just bought like half of West Texas? What's he have to do with you being a mechanic?"

Tim pushed his hair from his face, moving a little down the roof. "He has racecars. Needs a mechanic. Make em' run faster. I can do that. He trusts me. Pays well."

"But would you travel?"

"Nope. In-house only." He'd talk to her about it later. He looked out over the top of the roof, frowning. "There's someone in the drive. Some kid."

"Oh shoot, that's Wes."

"Wes!? The boyfriend?"

"You get out of here," Lyla said, closing the window behind him. He scowled, not saying anything as he crept down the roof and moved around, descending three flights. Thank God her house is staggered, he thought, nimbly dropping to the deck.

"Geez Dad, you're like a pot. Calling me, the kettle, black."

Aw, damnit, he thought, turning on his heel and spying Scout sitting just beneath the roof, halfway in the study and half on the desk, hiding from view. He smiled a little at her eyebrow arch. She looked like Lyla. "Um…" he shrugged, smiling weakly. "So…let's just…forge this, okay? Yeah?" He made a move to go around her, but she stopped him. Tim frowned a little. "You're not the boss, Scout."

"I just want to know what's going on with you and Mom," Scout said. She looked around him, her question going unanswered as Wes walked up onto the deck. Her eyes lit up. "Wes, you came!" She pushed around him to her boyfriend, giving Tim time to sneak into the house. He stood near the doorway, as Lyla came up to stand beside him.

He pointed towards Wes. "That's the same kid from the diner? He looks taller."

"Yes, he does," she murmured, her arms crossed over her chest. Her eyes narrowed and she focused on him, shaking her head slightly. "I don't know what this is going to be like, but we better get out there before it turns into something we don't approve of her doing."

"I don't approve of her doing anything," he said. Just for the record. He squared off with her, walking out onto the deck. They stood together, shoulder to shoulder, with Lyla looking sweet and smiley and him standing beside her, just smiling. Scout turned around, freezing when she saw them together. He smiled again. "Hi Wes, it's nice to meet you. I'm Scout's dad."

Lyla chirped, sweet as could be. "And I'm her mother, Lyla. Let's all go inside, shall we?" She led Wes inside, taking hold of his arm, nice and gentle. Tim knew better. She was going to turn full Lyla on him, getting every detail of his life within minutes with that happy smile and sweet voice.

He slung his arm over Scout's shoulders, taking in her concerned look. "Don't worry. Your mom will treat him fine. Nice and gentle."

"She won't kill him, will she?"

"You're her only daughter and you have a boyfriend and you're sixteen." Tim kissed the top of her head, sighing. "I hate to say I told you so…"

"You didn't tell me anything!"

He chuckled, hugging his daughter close for a brief moment before letting her go. "Well love of my life, my little girl, my munchkin…"

Scout was already rolling her eyes. "Geez Dad."

He kissed her again, giving her a hard squeeze. "You should have known. That's all. Should have known."

Scout pouted for a second. "I know," she mumbled, a few minutes later. She gave him one more hug, sighing. "I love you. I'll miss you, when you go back to Texas."

Yeah, Tim thought, hugging her back. He closed his eyes, swaying slightly with her. The joking was gone. Now here it was. Yeah, he was going back to Texas. Probably in a couple days, he thought. He wouldn't think of that right now. Right now he just hugged his daughter. Hell, he thought, opening his eyes and looking towards the kitchen, where Lyla had Wes at the table, a cup of tea already in front of him. He smiled slightly. "I'm not going far," he murmured, kissing her head again. I'm not going far at all kid.


	15. A Little Ray of Light

**A/N: **Soooo sorry the update was so long. I finally had the energy to finish a Matt POV. No idea when the next one will arrive, because it's going to be Julie. So that's two characters I never write in a row, yikes. Hope I don't butcher them too terribly. Enjoy! And thanks so much for stickign with this neverending fic!

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**Chapter 15: A Little Ray of Light**

This place was nice, Matt thought, climbing out of the car with Julie, while Tami led the way. He stopped slightly, looking up at what he was sure was Tim Riggins climbing on the roof. He cocked his head, frowning and pointing. "Why…"

"Sweetheart, just don't ask," Tami advised, looping her arm through his. She squeezed him tight. "Oh I am glad you decided to come out here for these last few days. We've been here two weeks and I think Julie has just one more little bit of work to do before she's done. Right Julie?"

I don't think Julie had a week in mind, more like two or three, Matt thought. He didn't say anything to Tami, and neither did Julie. They walked up to the front door, but Tami didn't knock or ring the doorbell, just opened the door, calling out that they were there, where was everyone.

He immediately got the sense that Lyla's books made her a pretty penny. Not just the house itself, which was beautiful and rather large, despite it's slightly cramped feel with the low ceilings and constant stairs and doorways, but just the decorating. He also noted that she had a couple of his larges pieces that sold at auction for a lot. He walked instantly over to a large piece on her mantel, slightly tilting it so he could see the number still painted in the back of the canvas. Yup, that one was the ten, at the Chicago Art Gala last year. Ten thousand. Damn.

It was sold anonymously, he thought, setting it back into place. "This is mine," he said, pointing towards it, when Julie looked over at him, after setting her things down in another room. It was kind of humbling, realizing that his artwork was hanging in someone's living room. He knew it did, but…after he sold the paintings he wasn't sure whatever happened with them. Didn't think of how they might serve as a centerpiece for an entire room or mean something to someone. "I can't believe she's got my art here."

"Well believe it," she said. Maybe a bit too snappish, he thought, turning his head slightly to frown at her. She caught herself, rubbing at her forehead and mumbling an apology. "Tired."

"That's not really an excuse," he said, his voice soft. He was tired of her using that all the time. I'm tired Matt, I can't talk about this right now. Work is killing me Matt, I don't want to go away this weekend. Matt, we're not having sex because I'm tired and I have to work tomorrow. Matt, we can't have a kid because I have to work and oh yeah, I'm tired. It was the same one all the time. He grew sick of it. Absolutely sick of it. "I'm tired too." He walked by her and into a large kitchen, where Buddy and Tami were arguing over the proper procedure to make coffee.

Oh good Lord what was Buddy doing here? Matt didn't get an answer to the unasked question when a tall, thin girl came bounding into the house. She froze, staring at them all. "Hello," she said, greeting him. She smiled quickly. "I'm Scout."

The mysterious Scout. He'd never met her. Tim had pictures of her in his house, but yeah, he could see it all clear as day with her in front of him. Definitely a Riggins. "I'm Matt," he said, offering his hand. "Julie's husband." At least, I think I'm still her husband. He glanced her way to confirm and she just looked down into her coffee cup.

"Cool! The artist! I paint a little, but I'm mostly into reading and writing," Scout said. She seemed rather bubbly. Maybe not really a Riggins, Matt thought, narrowing his eyes slightly. More like Lyla. "If you're looking for my Dad, he's outside. Although how he got there, I'm not sure, because he was upstairs a moment ago."

Maybe that's why I saw him on the roof. Wonder whose room he was climbing out of, Matt thought. He looked over his shoulder when Lyla came into the kitchen, her cheeks flushed and her clothes tousled. Okay, now I know. "This is a busy place," he commented, smiling at her. "Hello Lyla."

"Matt! So good to see you! Come outside, where there's more room." Lyla urged him outside, where Tim was stretched out in a chaise. "Tim we have a visitor."

"Not interested."

"I came all the way out here, how do you know I didn't light your house on fire?" he asked, walking over to Tim, who opened one eye, but didn't get up. He offered his hand out. "How are you?"

Tim shook it quickly and sat up, rising to his feet. "So what's going on? What are you doing here?"

Trying to work on my marriage. How about you, he thought, glancing at Tim. He still didn't know what prompted him to up and move. As well as put his house up for sale, but he guessed it didn't matter. "Julie. What about you?"

"My girls."

That was possessive, Matt thought, frowning slightly. Lyla seemed to agree, smiling in his direction. "I'm not your girl Tim."

"Yeah you are," he said, his arm going around her shoulders and kissing the top of her head. "You always will be." It could have been kind of nice, coupley, but Matt got the sense that it was meant to be sadder. It kind of was sad, he thought, frowning a little further. They both seemed sad. What did I walk into up here? He looked around them at Scout, who seemed to agree, frowning at them both. Tim took a deep breath, sighing hard. "So Matt's here, Julie's here, and Mrs. Taylor's here. I think that means a party."

"I think it means Julie and I will go work, Mrs. Taylor will do whatever she feels like doing, my dad is going to be in town visiting with my sister who finally decided to come back from Vancouver, and you and Matt do whatever you feel like doing," Lyla said, quirking her lip up. She nodded towards Scout, who was already straightening up from leaning against the wall. "And Scout will be studying for her gigantic science test I know she has Monday."

Scout's mouth fell slightly. "How…"

"Wes told me."

Tim looked over at Scout, who was scowling at her mother. "You need to be careful kid. I mean, she knows everything and if she doesn't know it, she'll find out."

"That's what I worry about," Scout mumbled, leaving them alone and going down the stairs towards the beach. Wow, pretty cool, Matt thought, his gaze following her down to the stretch of rocky beach.

He glanced to them both, smiling a little. "I should find Julie." Otherwise what am I even doing here? I should have just stayed at the inn instead of coming all this way.

"No, she needs to work on my book and then you can have her," Lyla said, smiling and disappearing into the house. Well that was rather definitive, he thought, glancing at Tim.

Tim shrugged. "She always gets her way." He leaned against the porch railing. "So what's up with you Seven? You come out here to win back your wife?"

"More like her win me back."

"Sucks."

"And what are you doing here? Getting your girls?" Matt chuckled, walking around the banister and heading down the stairs towards the beach. He wanted to investigate. The view was insane. He had to start sketching some of it to preserve his memory. The creative juices could come at any time. He hopped off the bottom step and reached into his back pocket, removing a small leather-bound book he kept and removed the charcoal pencil, starting to sketch.

Tim walked away from him a few feet and then turned around. "Did you know that Lyla and I have officially been off and on for the last twenty years? We've known each other for about thirty."

"That's a long time."

"Hmm. Most of life." He shoved his hands into his pockets, frowning a little. "You know five years ago we almost got married. We had a kid. When we didn't want a kid, we still had a kid."

That's what they call accidents, Matt thought, letting the pencil fall into the folds of his book. He pushed it back into his pocket. "Yeah, I heard the story." Where are you going with this Riggins? Tim didn't talk about his personal life unless there was a point to be made. Even then he rarely spoke about it. He looked sideways. "What's the point?"

Tim shrugged. "Point is, it sucked. You think I wanted a kid? I didn't. Especially not with Lyla. Thing is, we worked through it. Maybe not in an ideal way but we did. Took about sixteen years and here we are. Almost got married. We're off and on but we still love each other. Still know that we're the other person's…whatever."

"Soulmate?" Matt snorted. He couldn't believe he was having this conversation with Tim. "You believe in that stuff Riggins?"

Tim shrugged, running his tongue over his teeth. "I don't know," he whispered. "But if I did, maybe." He cocked his head. "And yours would be Little Taylor in there. Right?"

Right. He didn't answer, reaching back into his pocket to pull out the sketchpad again. He dragged the pencil over some of the lines, shading them in. He shrugged; Tim wouldn't let it go. "Yeah." Yeah, she'd be my soulmate, if you believed in that sort of thing. Problem was lately they just didn't seem to agree on anything. He glanced sideways. "You want kids? When you had Scout?"

Tim snorted. "I didn't even know about her for two years. When I did…" He smiled wide, in spite of himself. "It was the best feeling in the world, you know?"

"Better than State?" That was what he knew Tim equated pure happiness to feeling like. For him, it was memories with his grandmother and marrying Julie. State was a great feeling, but it didn't rank way up there. Not like the day he got married to Julie.

Tim cocked his head, trying to rationalize it somehow, Matt figured. He smiled, fully expecting Tim to say that no way, State was the better day, but then the other man shook his head, his voice quiet. "No. Finding out I had a kid was freaking scary, but…when I saw her…got to know her…that feeling…" He smiled again, his voice quiet. "That feeling is better than State." He paused. "But the thing Seven…I didn't get to plan it, you know? We go for the ride. Lyla carried her in her gut for nine months and was in labor for like fifty hours…"

I think that's an exaggeration. Matt shrugged, interrupting. "What's this got to do with me?" He had a weird feeling where Tim was going and he didn't really want to hear it.

"What's it got to do with you?" Tim rolled his eyes, reaching down to grab a rock and threw it out at the ocean. He picked up another, finally turning and looking straight at him. It unnerved Matt. Tim had a very blunt way of things. "It's got to do with you because I'm finally figuring out that Lyla went through a lot of crap and sometimes you make stupid decisions like she did not telling me I had a kid, but…but hell I don't know Seven. Don't get mad at your gal and…and break up with her or something just because she doesn't want kids. If that's why you guys are breaking up."

"We're not breaking up!" His eyes widened. That had never crossed his mind. He hoped like hell it hadn't crossed Julie's. His eyes widened further. Oh God what if it had? What if that's why Tim brought it up!? "Did she say something!?" he yelped.

"No! I'm just saying, I hear things around here. Women don't shut up."

He raked his hand through his thick curly hair. He had to get it cut, but he'd been busy lately. Damnit if Riggins wasn't getting through to him and wasn't that just a terrifying thought? He glared over at him. "Julie and I have been married forever and we're ready for a kid. I want a kid."

"And Lyla and I screwed around for three days and we had a kid and we haven't even been together for sixteen years, fighting and screwing around all the time with each other," Tim retorted. He grinned, slightly manic. "Your logic doesn't hold."

"Your logic doesn't hold? Where the hell do you get this from?"

"My kid is smart, she says things, I remember them, shut up." Tim frowned. "Don't get mad at her because she's not ready. You'll let a good thing go." He pursed his lips for a second and shrugged, turning away and picked up another rock, sending it flying into the ocean like a discus. He fell back on his heels, his hands going into his pockets. His voice was more reflective a moment later. "Don't be like Lyla and I. Letting something get in the way of something bigger. It'll ruin you." He walked away, picking up rocks and jiggling them in his hands, throwing them into the ocean every few feet, losing himself in his Tim-world.

Which meant they were done, Matt thought, watching his old friend walk away. He had some good points. He'd wrestled with the idea of fatherhood for a long time. He'd come to terms with it when they'd gotten pregnant and he wanted it even more now that they'd lost their shot. Julie seemed to take it the opposite way. Saw it as a sign that they weren't ready, that she should focus more on her career.

He saw Tim's point. He figured that it must have been very difficult for Lyla. She'd come very far. A successful author, a great mother, and yeah, her relationship with Tim had not been the textbook example of healthy. That wasn't his life though. They had a decent amount of money. Some of it saved. He was successful and Julie…

Shit Tim, he thought, groaning and scrubbed his face. He got it. He turned around, returning to the house. Tami was outside reading a book. "Where's Julie?" he asked.

"Hey sweetie!" Tami jumped up to give him a hug and kiss. She smiled at him, rubbing his shoulder and walking with him into the kitchen. "She's in the study with Lyla. They're going over the book. Do you want some tea?"

"Ah, no thanks, I think I'm going to take off."

"Is Tim down by the ocean?"

"Uh, yeah, he is." He peeked into the living room, where Scout was reading a book. His voice dropped, so she wouldn't hear them. He gestured towards her. "Is she okay?" She seemed okay. Relatively stable for living a bit of a life that jumped around. Plus, she was part Riggins.

Tami chuckled. "She's fine. She's used to Tim and Lyla going their own ways unfortunately." She turned around and leaned back on the counter, holding her mug of tea. Her eyes softened, in that way that he knew meant she was about to get philosophical. Counselor-like. She was a great mother-in-law, but sometimes he didn't feel like having every conversation feel like a therapy session. "Julie told me about the baby."

So we're going to do this, okay. He shook his head, his voice quiet. "We've just been…in different places." He had to think about some things. Tim put a lot into perspective. "I'm going to go back to the hotel. Can I catch a cab?"

Tami took out the keys to the rental car. "I'll have Tim or Lyla take us back later. I'm going with Scout into town though. So I might see you around." She paused, smiling. "Matt, I know you mean well, but this is something that can make or break marriages. Children. Don't let it make or break yours."

I'm trying, he thought, leaving the kitchen. He went into the living room, smiling a little at Scout. "What book are you reading?" he asked, striking up a conversation.

Scout glanced at the cover, quirking her lip. "My namesake. To Kill a Mockingbird."

"Oh yeah, I didn't know Lyla was all into books or stuff."

"What?"

He flushed a little; he sucked at smalltalk. "The book. Scout, right? That's why she named you?"

Scout rolled her eyes, smirking. "It's a nickname. I think she started because she was a little bit superstitious and was reading it and writing an essay on it when she went into labor with me. Then I think it was because I started exploring early. But what I really think did it was that apparently when I was two or something, I became friends with this kid that no one really liked in preschool and he always sat by himself and stuff. Mom said once that it was like Boo Radley or something and I was Scout going to talk to him when no one else would. I don't know." She rolled her eyes. "But Dad always had other nicknames for me."

"Yeah," Matt laughed. "He does that."

"What's yours?"

He rolled his eyes. "Seven."

"My Uncle Jason is Six, pretty funny." She grinned. "I didn't know my mother's name was Lyla until I was five. I always thought it was…"

"Garrity."

They both looked up, Tim standing in the doorway. He smiled down at Scout, cuffing her on the back of the head. "Hey, let's go have some father-daughter time. Teach me English or something."

"I don't have the rest of my life to do that Daddy."

"Well let's start now, come on. You need a ride Seven?"

Matt smiled slightly, shaking his head. "Naw, I'm good." He glanced out the window as the two Rigginses walked out, both of them laughing about something. Tim grabbed Scout around her neck with his arm, tugging her against him to kiss the top of her head. That was nice. He wanted that with a kid. He sighed, looking around the house. But this…he wanted it with Julie. Not shuttling a kid around. Scout seemed fine, but…but her eyes had lit up at the sight of Tim in the house. He was leaving soon, they had to cram as much time together as possible into a short while before he left. That sucked. Hell, he knew what that was like.

I don't ever want that same feeling for my kid, he thought, looking down at the keys in his hand. He sighed, shoving them into his pocket and removed the small sketchbook. He went back out onto the porch, walked around it, and down to the ocean, taking a seat on a rock and began to sketch. He'd wait for Julie.


End file.
